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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615917">The Way It Goes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltorafray/pseuds/deltorafray'>deltorafray</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Civil War Compliant, Endgame? I don't know her, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Homecoming Sort Of Compliant, Infinity War Divergent, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Slow Burn, Top Tony Stark, bed sharing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:40:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>79,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615917</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltorafray/pseuds/deltorafray</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A version of the story if Peter was a more emotionally mature, slightly more confident 17-year old, and Tony is a bit more open with him when they first met. A story of how the connection they forged since the beginning is enough to change the subsequent events for them and for everything else. A story of how love can affect the way it goes in profound, life-altering ways.</p><p>Also known as "My self-indulgent fix-it fic".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>821</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“I’m just saying, Happy,” Peter rambled on, dragging his suitcase up the steps onto the private jet – <em>private jet</em>! What is his life? – following close behind the other man. “The picture was dark! You can’t even tell what colours I was wearing. They don’t know it was Spider-man. They don’t even know who Spider-man <em>is</em>. They called me ‘Sticky Boy’.”</p><p>Peter stepped into the cabin and froze in his tracks when he saw Mr. Stark sitting on one of the white leather airplane seats, gazing out the little window through his blue-tinted sunglasses. The light of the late morning sun catches the dark bruise around his left eye and Peter winces in sympathy. He had been pretty bruised up after the airport fight too, with a couple of cracked ribs, but he was all healed up by morning.</p><p>“Uh … Mr. Stark, I didn’t know you were-“ Peter starts uncertainly, still clutching his suitcase. He heard what happened with Colonel Rhodes and he thought Mr. Stark would be with him.</p><p>“We’re headed the same way. Figured I’d hitch a ride,” Mr. Stark gives him a tight smile.</p><p>Peter chuckles nervously. “Heh, it’s got your name on the plane, sir. If anyone’s hitching a ride, it’d be me. ‘Cause it’s your plane and all. And I’m just-”</p><p>Happy nudges him. “Bag in the overhead, kid. Come on.”</p><p>“Right, right.” Peter lifts up his suitcase easily and stows it away on the overhead bin before latching it closed. Happy goes to the cockpit to lock in coordinates while Peter turns uncertainly on the spot. Would it be rude to sit in one of the four-seaters Mr. Stark is sitting in? Would it be rude <em>not</em> to sit with him? Happy didn’t like it when he-</p><p>“You need a formal invitation or something?” Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow at him. “Sit down already. We’re taking off soon.”</p><p>Peter lowers himself slowly onto one of the seats opposite Mr. Stark, not directly opposite, just off to the side, next to the aisle, watching the other man closely for any sign of disapproval of his choice of seating. But Mr. Stark is back to staring out the window and doesn’t say anything so Peter relaxes.</p><p>Until the jet engines start revving up that is. Peter tenses in his seat and closes his eyes anxiously. The plane’s vibrations thrum through his oversensitive body and he’s keenly aware of the gears shifting in the machinery around him.</p><p>“Nervous flyer?”</p><p>Peter’s eyes flick open to find Mr. Stark scrutinizing him. “It’s only my second time on a plane. I’m still not used to it, I guess,” he admits.</p><p>“Sit here,” Mr. Stark offers, nodding at the empty seat right next to him. “The G’s won’t feel so bad when you’re facing the front.”</p><p>Peter hesitates for a second, then figuring Mr. Stark wouldn’t be able to see how anxious he is if they’re both facing the same way, he nods and does what the other man says.</p><p>He buckles in just as the plane moves to take off. It’s really disconcerting how one minute he can feel the rough drag of the asphalt on the plane’s wheels, then the next it’s nothing, they’re speeding through the air. He can’t see it through the plane’s carpets, but he can imagine the ground falling farther and farther away with every second the jet engines propel them forward. Peter’s not afraid of heights, exactly. He spends a decent amount of his time swinging around tall buildings. But this is like, open, empty air. Nothing around to web himself onto safety, nothing to break his fall.</p><p>Mr. Stark grabs Peter’s knee and squeezes it until it stops jittering.</p><p>“Sorry,” Peter says sheepishly. He has a bad habit of bouncing his leg when he’s nervous. He doesn’t notice when he does it and it annoys Ned to pieces.</p><p>“You wanna watch a movie? Get your mind off the fact that we’re hurtling through miles and miles of empty air in a tin can?”</p><p>Peter’s actually forgotten all about his uneasiness over flying the moment Mr. Stark’s hand landed on his knee – it’s still there, by the way – but he nods anyway. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”</p><p>Mr. Stark presses a button and a monitor slides down from the ceiling. He finally takes his hand off Peter’s knee to grab a remote from a panel under the armrest, handing it to him. Their fingers brush as they do so.</p><p>Peter uses the remote to scroll through the movie selection. It’s pretty comprehensive, from new release blockbusters to famous classics. He’s not sure what he feels like watching at the moment though. What kind of movies does Mr. Stark like? He pauses when he finds Back to the Future and grins at the other man.</p><p>“If you call this a ‘really old movie’, I’m throwing you off the plane,” Mr. Stark warns him. But there’s a tug of a smile in the corner of his mouth and it makes Peter grin wider.</p><p>“I used to watch this a lot when I was a kid,” Peter says, hitting play and putting down the remote. “I was obsessed with the idea of time travel. I really wanted to make a time machine of my own and … I don’t know, I just thought it’d be cool.” There’s that familiar twinge in his chest when he remembers why he wanted to travel back in time, who he wanted to save, but he shoves it aside.</p><p>“You know that’s not how time travel works, right? Even if it is possible.”</p><p>“Well, I know <em>now</em>.” Peter settles in his seat and watches the beginning credits roll. “When was the last time you watched this?”</p><p>“This movie? God, I don’t know. When it came out?” Mr. Stark rubs at his chin. “I can’t even remember the last time I watched <em>any</em> movie.”</p><p>“Wow. The last movie <em>I </em>watched was-“ Peter cuts himself off, blushing, suddenly remembering exactly what movie he watched in his hotel room last night. “- uh, Star Wars,” he lies. “Empire Strikes Back. That’s why I remembered it when we were at the airport doing the thing with the giant man. ‘Cause it was fresh in my mind. ‘Cause I watched it when-“</p><p>“Uh-huh, sure kid,” Mr. Stark says absently, eyes on the screen.</p><p>Peter shuts up, face still feeling a little warm. He tries to push out of his mind the actors in that particularly, uh, <em>graphic</em> film he watched last night, and exactly who one of the actors resembled with the dark hair and stubble.</p><p>Peter makes himself focus on the movie as they watch it quietly. Mr. Stark’s right, Peter does feel a lot more relaxed as he gets lost in the familiar storyline.</p><p>“How does a high school kid end up buddies with a crazy old physicist anyway?” Mr. Stark pipes up suddenly as they’re watching. “I feel like that’s a story they could’ve explored here somewhere.”</p><p>Peter shrugs. “How any friendship starts, I guess. Mutual interests, compatible personalities, that kind of thing. They both seem kinda eccentric. Maybe the people at Marty’s school can’t relate to that side of him.”</p><p>“Good thing you don’t have that problem at Midtown Tech huh? Bet you’re all weird little nerds there.”</p><p>Peter chuckles. “It’s not the fact that I’m a nerd that makes it hard for me to relate to other people.”</p><p>“That you’re a jock, then? That you can probably lift up all the cheerleaders with one hand without breaking a sweat?”</p><p>“Something like that, yeah.”</p><p>Midtown School of Science and Technology isn’t like the high schools portrayed in most American media. The hottest girl in school is captain of the academic decathlon team and Peter’s “bully” isn’t exactly the popular jock. Peter is by all accounts painfully average relative to his schoolmates and he gets along okay with most of them. But there’s just some things that makes him feel … removed from the wholesome everyday teenager life. Having been orphaned at a young age, acquiring superpowers, watching the uncle who raised you die in your arms will do that to a person, he supposes.</p><p>It hits Peter that, age difference aside, he probably has more in common with Mr. Stark than he does with his friends from school.</p><p>--</p><p>They’re halfway through Back to the Future II when Peter nods off. It’s a 10-hour flight and the kid must be exhausted, having spent the night cavorting through Berlin’s party scene. Yeah, Tony knows about that, but he doesn’t feel like making a big deal out of it at the moment. From what he’s heard, Happy’s given the kid a thorough telling off anyway.</p><p>Tony turns the volume down on the TV, low enough for it to just be a soothing drone to lull Peter’s sleep. He’s not super interested in the movie anyway. The special effects are terrible and the science is wildly inaccurate, but he enjoyed watching Peter watch it, seeing him smile and hearing him laugh softly at the characters’ antics. It’s a pleasant distraction from the storm of thoughts roiling in the back of his mind. Thoughts on Rhodey, falling from the sky. Natasha, letting Steve go. <em>Steve</em>.</p><p>He hadn’t wanted to board the medevac with Rhodey back to the States. The medical team would be working on him immediately to prevent further nerve damage and Tony didn’t want to get in their way. He also didn’t want to spend 10 hours staring at his best friend’s unconscious form, knowing that he did that.</p><p>Rhodey risked his life for Tony’s cause. For a fucking <em>squabble </em>between him and Steve. Tony wants to blame Mr. Tall, Blond, and Righteous for it, for being such a goddamn stubborn son of a bitch, for forcing his hand. But Rhodey was there because Tony was, because he asked him to. Whatever happens to Rhodey, it’s Tony’s fault. It’s on him.</p><p>Now that the kid’s asleep, those thoughts are starting to push through the forefront of his mind again. He stares out the window, wondering what’s waiting for him when they land. He’s gonna have to deal with Ross after this, which sucks major ass. Natasha’s switched sides apparently – fuck, the fact that there are <em>sides</em> now. Whatever happened to being the Avengers? To being a team? – and they’ll be after her head too. Steve and Barnes are in the wind. Everyone else that were with them are in cuffs. Tony’s alone. The only one left on his side is Vision, who probably won't be much longer now that Tony's locked up his girlfriend, and ...</p><p>Peter’s head lolls onto Tony’s shoulder and rests there as he continues to snore softly.</p><p>Something stirs in Tony’s heart, seeing the kid so relaxed around him. It’s because he doesn’t know what an utter disaster Tony really is. He looks at Tony with something uncomfortably like admiration, something he’ll grow out of soon enough if this whole superhero thing works out between them. If Tony’s not careful, he’ll ruin the kid, just like he ruins everything – everyone – that ventures to come near him.</p><p>Tony turns his head to bury his nose in Peter’s soft curls. He smells like generic hotel shampoo.</p><p>Tony hates being alone. But right now he’s got one Peter Parker sleeping peacefully on his shoulder and it settles something in his chest for the moment.</p><p>--</p><p>It's past midnight local time in New York when they land. Peter texts Aunt May letting her know that he's back on US soil. He's not surprised when she texts back right away. She must be waiting up for him.</p><p>Peter was bewildered enough to find Mr. Stark on the flight back home from Berlin with him, he's super bewildered to find the man climbing into the car that's taking Peter home, telling Happy to drop Peter off first. Not that he's complaining, of course. He'll gladly take any extra time he gets to spend with the older man.</p><p>Mr. Stark is not at all like what Peter's seen on TV. The expensive-looking suits, the colour-tinted glasses, that <em>face</em>, it's all there. (And he's <em>so </em>much more handsome in person. Those <em>eyelashes</em>. Cameras don't do them justice. Peter doesn't think he's ever seen eyelashes like that on a grown man.)</p><p>But he's quieter in real life, more subdued, like the mode's turned off on his flashy public persona, like this is what he's really like off camera. Peter feels a flutter of thrill that he gets to see this side of him that he doesn’t think a lot of people get to see.</p><p>They're in the car, both facing the camera lens on Peter's crappy phone, and Mr. Stark honest-to-God <em>giggles</em> right after making an inappropriate comment about his aunt and it's such an astonishing sound that Peter frowns in bemusement. But then Mr. Stark grabs his shoulder, telling him something about editing the video - he can't be expected to pay attention when they're pressed that close - and his brain short-circuits a little.</p><p>Before they start the video again, Mr. Stark takes the phone from Peter and holds the front camera up to his face as he turns it this way and that. "God, I look like I got hit by a Mack truck," Mr. Stark criticizes at his bruised face. "Your aunt's not gonna be suspicious about that, right? I get into fights. I'm Iron Man. It's no big deal." He runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it, using the front camera as a mirror. </p><p><em>He's so fucking hot</em>, Peter thinks.</p><p>"Alright, here we go, let's try again." Mr. Stark returns the phone to Peter, who holds it up to get both of them in frame, shuffling a little closer so that he's practically leaning on Mr. Stark's chest. His cologne smells like a sweet, woody citrus.</p><p>Peter smiles awkwardly through the short video, listening to Mr. Stark lie as smoothly as his voice. He’s so charming, it’s unreal.</p><p>They're interrupted once more by Happy swerving the car sharply and cursing at the road.</p><p>Mr. Stark grows bored of making the video and takes Peter's phone to tease Happy instead, then turns the camera towards Peter and pretends to interview him.</p><p>"So, Mr. Parker," Mr. Stark says in his faux-respectable reporter-voice. "Any thoughts on the Stark Internship retreat and any tips you want to share with future hopefuls? That Tony Stark, he's really something, huh?"</p><p>Peter grins and adopts his own fake-voice. "Why yes, sir, Mr. Stark is something alright. Really challenged me and put me to work, that guy. It was a real beating. Could barely stand up when he was done with me."</p><p>Mr. Stark snorts in laughter, and in his normal voice, he says, "I don't know if that sounds more abusive or sexual."</p><p>Peter takes his phone from Mr. Stark and points it at the other man. "Wait, wait, let me do you." He blushes when he realizes what he just said.</p><p>Mr. Stark laughs again. "Okay, second one it is." He straightens up and raises his eyebrows expectantly at the camera.</p><p>"So uh," Peter clears his throat. How do reporters do this when they have the full force of Tony Stark's attention on them? He's watching Mr. Stark's image on the phone’s screen instead of the real thing, as though that would help. "So Mr. Stark, what did you think of the new recruit?"</p><p>Mr. Stark looks amused. "You fishing for compliments, kid?"</p><p>Peter shrugs.</p><p>Mr. Stark hums thoughtfully. "He's got potential, alright. With a bit more training and experience, he might even be the next Captain America. You know, since the current one is being an unreasonable ass at present." Mr. Stark shakes his head. "Anyway. Happy, can you give us a moment?”</p><p>Happy, who has pulled up on the street right outside Peter’s apartment, turns to look at Mr. Stark incredulously. “You want me to leave the car?”</p><p>“Why don’t you grab Peter’s case out of the trunk?”</p><p>Happy exits the car with a disgruntled huff.</p><p>Mr. Stark turns to Peter. “You did good, kid. You'll get plenty of chances to log some more hours under your belt. Do your friendly neighbourhood spider-thing. Break in that new suit of yours-"</p><p>Peter looks up in shock. "I can keep the suit?"</p><p>“Yes, we were just talking about it.” Mr. Stark clears his throat. “Do me a favour though. Happy’s kinda your point guy on this. Don’t stress him out. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve seen his cardiogram. Alright?”</p><p>Peter is still trying to process all of this. “Wait, does that mean that I’m an Avenger?”</p><p>“No,” Mr. Stark says sharply. Peter jumps a little at the tone and Mr. Stark’s face softens. “Not sure there’s even still an Avengers after this. Band’s all broken up.” He gives Peter a pained smile and puts on his tinted sunglasses. It’s almost 1 am and it’s dark outside. “Just … stay out of trouble, will you? Don’t do anything I would do. And definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”</p><p>Peter looks confused.</p><p>“There’s a little grey area in there and that’s where you operate,” Mr. Stark adds helpfully. “Just keep doing what you were doing before. Look out for the little guys, right? Just ‘cause you got a taste of the big leagues don’t mean you get to bite off more than you can chew, even with the new suit. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. God knows I don’t need any more of that on my plate.” He mutters that last bit under his breath and Peter’s not sure if he meant for him to hear it. Peter’s super-hearing doesn’t hide much from him.</p><p>Mr. Stark’s eyes are obscured by his sunglasses and Peter thinks that might be the point. Iron Man has his armour and apparently so does Mr. Stark.</p><p>“You don’t have to worry about me, Mr. Stark,” Peter assures him. “I’m totally responsible.”</p><p>Mr. Stark snorts. “People much older and much more experienced than you can still get severely hurt on the job so you’re gonna have to forgive me for being sceptical.”</p><p>Peter chews on his bottom lip, frowning. He knows Mr. Stark is probably projecting his worries about Colonel Rhodes onto him but he doesn’t know what to say to assuage his concerns.</p><p>There’s a knock on the window behind Peter and he turns to see Happy holding up his case.</p><p>“Seventh floor!” Mr. Stark calls out.</p><p>Peter quickly assures Happy that he can take his own bag upstairs. When he looks back, he sees that Mr. Stark is not looking at him and instead is gazing out the opposite window.</p><p>Peter is being dismissed, he knows that, but he pauses before leaving the car. He can feel Mr. Stark closing in on himself again and he wants to say something, though he's unsure if it's his place to say it. </p><p>"Mr. Stark," Peter begins hesitantly. "I know what it’s like, feeling like you messed up so bad that you’d screw up everything around you. But for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing, the best thing you can do under the circumstances."</p><p>Mr. Stark is still looking out the opposite window, unmoving, showing no signs that he even heard Peter at all, making him wonder if he just massively blew it with his big mouth.</p><p><em>Way to go, Peter</em>, he berates himself silently.</p><p>"Anyway, thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Stark," Peter says quietly and slides out the car.</p><p>"Peter," he hears Mr. Stark say. </p><p>Peter turns to see Mr. Stark watching him, eyes inscrutable behind the blue-tinted sunglasses. His smile is small and sad.</p><p>"Thank you." Mr. Stark sounds sincere. He tugs at his jacket awkwardly. "Now get up there before your aunt sends out a search party."</p><p>Peter smiles and does as he says.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony doesn't know how long he sits there on the roof of the Hydra facility. He can't feel his face, having been exposed to the frozen winds of the cold Siberian highlands. The chill does nothing to abate the rage burning inside him though, the betrayal he feels over Steve risking everything, throwing everything away, choosing to leave with the person who killed - <em>murdered</em> - his parents.</p><p>
  <em>I was your friend too.</em>
</p><p>Tony doesn't remember going back to his jet or clocking in the coordinates for New York. He spends the flight fixing up his dinged up suit as best he can with what he has on board, but his movements are automatic, unthinking. Replacing the arc reactor in what's left of the suit's chest plate, hammering out the dents, readjusting the joints, don't take up much of his considerable brain power and his thoughts keep circling back to the grainy security video of that dimly lit road. The flash of the gun as-</p><p>Tony's grip on the screwdriver slips and he scratches the palm of his hand on an exposed screw. He curses.</p><p>Why the hell doesn't he stock alcohol in this jet? He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts.</p><p>He doesn't want to be alone, period.</p><p>He rubs at his chest, feeling the blooming bruise there from where his chest plate caved in under Steve's shield. For a terrifying second, Tony was convinced that Steve fully intended to kill him when he ripped off his helmet and lifted that shield over his head. He had flinched, expecting a fatal blow of sharp vibranium to the head with all the deadly force of a super soldier behind it. But Steve slammed the shield into the suit’s reactor, shutting it down, killing the armour as effectively as he killed whatever was left of their friendship.</p><p>God, Tony wishes he still had Pepper. He wonders if he's still welcome to go to her, to talk to her about ... everything. Anything. All of this. In his heart, she’s still his best friend, his partner. But …</p><p><em>I think a break would do us both good</em>.</p><p>What does that even mean? Is there anything but a grammatical difference between being on a break and being broken up? Is this like a trial run? See if she can live without him? Because she definitely can, Tony has no doubts about that. Pepper is the strongest person he’s ever known. She’s seen him full of life and at his worst, seen him dying and at his best. If even <em>she</em> can’t find it in herself to put up with him, then there’s really no hope for anyone else.</p><p><em>In her defence, I am a handful</em>.</p><p>Tony's shitshow of a life stops for nothing and no one. Pepper gets to have a break from that, but not him. He's stuck with himself, by himself. Which is great for everyone else because when people stay with him, when they stick with him long enough, they get broken.</p><p>Tony thinks of Rhodey lying paralyzed on that hospital bed. </p><p>
  <em>I know what it’s like, feeling like you messed up so bad that you’d screw up everything around you.</em>
</p><p>Tony checks the map. His ETA is less than an hour to New York. He steps into his banged up suit. It's good for flight even if it won’t hold up in heavy combat, and it's got just enough juice to get him to go where he suddenly wants to go.</p><p>--</p><p>Peter is in bed, watching the video of him and Mr. Stark on his phone for possibly the millionth time. Peter's alone in the apartment and he doesn't need to use earphones to watch it in private, wanting to hear Mr. Stark's voice bounce around the walls of his room like he's really here. </p><p>He gets a weird tingle whenever he remembers that Mr. Stark has been in his room, that he once sat right there at the foot of his lumpy mattress. He squirms under the blanket, feeling that tingle persist, even going so much as to get stronger and more urgent. </p><p>His super-hearing picks up a distant hum of an engine growing increasingly loud and, suddenly realizing that it's an entirely <em>different</em> kind of tingle, the <em>danger</em> kind, Peter leaps out of bed and grabs his web-shooters from his bedside table, taking a fighting stance and aiming them out the open window.</p><p>Hovering right outside his window is Iron Man, the scratched up face plate retracted to reveal Mr. Stark's wry expression, looking even more battered and bruised than the last time Peter saw him.</p><p>"Oh my God, Mr. Stark!" Peter exclaims, stepping back, letting the man step out of his suit and climb through the window. The empty suit flies off out of sight. "Where is he going?"</p><p>"Don't worry about him." Mr. Stark waves a dismissive hand. "He's just gonna find somewhere inconspicuous to park."</p><p>Peter turns to him with wide eyes. "Oh my God, Mr. Stark," he says again. "Are you okay? What happened? We're so lucky Aunt May isn't here. She's staying at a friend's house tonight, family emergency of some kind and May wanted to be there to help and stuff.” Peter is suddenly aware of what a fucking mess his room is and he begins pacing around as he rambles, randomly straightening things up. “Can you imagine if she was here when you zoomed up to the window? ‘Cause no offence, Mr. Stark, the suit’s not exactly quiet-“</p><p>“Relax, kid. I scanned the unit. I knew you were the only one here. Wouldn’t have ‘zoomed up’ if I didn’t know it would be safe.” Mr. Stark helped himself to sitting at the foot of Peter’s bed, making himself comfortable, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, not even opening them to do the air quotation marks.</p><p>Mr. Stark looks terrible. Still devastatingly handsome, but he looks dead tired, the dark circles under his eyes punctuated by the bruises on his temple and fresh cuts on his cheekbones.</p><p>“Wait here,” Peter says. He rushes out to the bathroom across the hall. He keeps a freshly-stocked first aid kit ever since he started the whole Spider-man gig. He heals fast, but not so fast that May won’t notice. He stops by the kitchen to take an ice pack from the freezer and returns to the bedroom.</p><p>Mr. Stark hasn’t moved. Peter would’ve thought he had fallen asleep if he didn’t see Mr. Stark fingers drumming restlessly on the mattress.</p><p>Peter sits tentatively on the bed next to him, handing him the ice pack to press over his swollen eye. “What happened?” he asks in a quiet voice.</p><p>“Shit happened,” Mr. Stark mumbles. He sees the first aid kit in Peter’s hands. “You don’t have to do that.”</p><p>“I want to,” Peter says. “Can’t have you bleeding all over my bed.” He takes a clean wet cloth and holds it up. “May I?”</p><p>“Knock yourself out,” Mr. Stark says.</p><p>Peter wipes away the dirt and congealed blood around Mr. Stark’s face. It’s mostly scrapes and bruises, no active bleeding, but the man winces when Peter presses against a particularly large abrasion.</p><p>“Sorry,” Peter murmurs. He tries to be gentler in his movements.</p><p>“It’s fine. You don’t happen to have any booze lying around here, would you?”</p><p>“I think May has some box wine somewhere in the kitchen.”</p><p>“Gross,” Mr. Stark comments blandly.</p><p>Peter rubs some Neosporin on the wounds and tapes gauze over the worse-looking ones. Mr. Stark leans back against the wall with his eyes closed, letting Peter take care of him. Peter wonders if the other man is hiding other injuries under his clothes. He wonders if it’s okay for him to ask if he could check.</p><p>“I lost him,” Mr. Stark says after a while, eyes still closed. “It’s not just the about the Accords anymore. I don’t even know if… I think if it was just about not seeing eye to eye about signing the damn thing, it would’ve been okay. Someday, somehow. Stuff like that’s meant to be amended anyway, revised, rewritten. We would’ve come to a compromise at some point. Maybe. Even with Rhodey…”</p><p>Peter knows the gist of the whole Sokovia Accords situation, having been briefed before the incident in Berlin. When they flew back to New York together he seemed … well, not fine, obviously. But not like this, like the beating he sustained wasn’t just physical. Something must have happened between the last time Peter saw him and now. Something that made Mr. Stark fly in the middle of the night to the apartment of a kid he barely knew, broken in more ways than one.</p><p>Mr. Stark still hasn’t opened his eyes. It seems easier for him to talk that way. “I know it’s a tall order to call anything between me and Cap as something along the lines of <em>friendship</em>. Or at least I know that <em>now</em>. But I thought we were at least <em>civil</em>, you know. We saved the world together, several times, for fuck’s sake. But he <em>chose</em> him over me. He chose <em>him</em>.”</p><p>“He chose <em>who</em>, Mr. Stark?”</p><p>Mr. Stark opens his eyes at that and looks at Peter. There’s a raw, bitter hatred there and it breaks Peter’s heart to see it. “<em>Barnes</em>,” Mr. Stark spits out. “The Hydra agent Steve’s been running around with. The Hydra agent who <em>murdered</em> my parents.”</p><p>“What?” Peter whispers. "That doesn't sound like Captain Rogers."</p><p>"Apparently they're childhood <em>friends</em>," Mr. Stark says with disdain. "Never mind that he's been Hydra's deadliest assassin for the last seventy odd years. Or that he literally murdered his way out of that cell in Berlin. That sanctimonious bastard with all his ‘morals’ and ‘high ground’ and ‘doing the right fucking thing’. But the minute it’s about his best friend, his <em>Bucky</em>, then fuck all that, nothing else matters. Not all the people he’s killed, not … not <em>me</em>."</p><p>In all honesty, in the beginning, Peter could kind of see where Captain Rogers was coming from about the Sokovia Accords. It sounded restrictive. Dangerous situations are often time-sensitive. It doesn't seem right waiting around for a greenlight from politicians, who sit safe behind taxpayers' desks arguing circles around each other, when people could be in danger right at that moment. If you can do something, it's your responsibility to do it. </p><p>But Mr. Stark must know all of this. He’s the farthest thing from stupid. And he's right, multinational agreements are fickle things that get amended and revised all the time. The important thing is that at the end of the day, there's still even such a thing as the Avengers to meet future threats when they come.</p><p>Now, thanks to Captain Rogers, the dream team's broken up, on the run, or in jail, or in the hospital. And Mr. Stark ...</p><p>That's why Mr. Stark is sitting here, in a dingy bedroom of a Queens apartment, sitting on some old, generic IKEA sheets, faded from multiple washes. Peter's heart splinters further when he realizes that the man may not have anywhere else to go.</p><p>“No offence, Mr. Stark, but it sounds like you need better friends.”</p><p>Mr. Stark snorts. He looks over at Peter with a strange look on his face. “You know, everyone’s so quick to make me into the bad guy. Kinda makes you think … These people are supposed to know you better than anyone. Maybe they’re right. Maybe you are the bad guy.”</p><p>“Do you really think that?”</p><p>Mr. Stark shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m right. Doesn’t matter if that makes me the bad guy or not. What I did … If we wanted to keep doing what we’ve been doing, you know, the whole Avengers thing … It was the only way.” Mr. Stark huffs self-deprecatingly. “But it seems like I was the only one who wanted that. Well, me and Rhodey, I guess. And I broke him. The only friend who actually stuck with me.” Mr. Stark looks at Peter wryly. “You better watch out or you’ll be next, kid.”</p><p>“I can take care of myself,” Peter says, eyes steady on the other man.</p><p><em>I’m not afraid, Mr. Stark, </em>Peter thinks. <em>I’ll be your friend. If you’ll let me</em>.</p><p>Mr. Stark sighs and closes his eyes again, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. "I'm so fucking tired, Pete."</p><p>"You can sleep here if you want. I can take the couch outside."</p><p>Mr. Stark shakes his head. "No, you don't have to. I ... I don't really wanna ... be by myself. And I probably won't be able to sleep anyway." He makes to get up off the bed. "You should sleep though. I can rest over there," he says gesturing at the chair at Peter's desk.</p><p>Peter stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, Mr. Stark, I mean, if you don't mind if ... I mean, it's a tight fit but it's probably more comfortable in here than sitting in that chair all night. But ... you could ... if you don't mind me staying here with you?" he asks shyly.</p><p>Mr. Stark just stares at him for a while. There's something contemplative in his look that's making Peter's heart pound. He must look so transparent, sitting there in his baggy pyjamas, offering a place on his childhood bed. </p><p>"Alright," Mr. Stark finally says. He stands up and gestures to the side of the bed closest to the wall. "You go on this side, though. I'm not letting you roll off the edge." </p><p>Peter must be blushing something fierce, but he tries to hide it. "Do you, um ... do you want the lights off, or ..."</p><p>"Up to you, kid. I don't mind either way." Mr. Stark takes off his jacket and folds it over Peter's chair. The T-shirt he’s wearing underneath is a plain thin cotton that hangs snugly over his torso.</p><p>Peter flicks off the light switch. It's not too dark, the streetlights from outside casting a soft glow through the open window. Peter can see Mr. Stark's silhouette against it, a solid figure standing in the middle of his room, tapping something on his watch. He's grateful for the semi-darkness because he feels himself blush harder than ever. He can hear his heart racing as he climbs into bed, tucking himself under the blankets, back against the wall facing the other man. </p><p>Mr. Stark takes a few seconds to regard him, his expression inscrutable even with his sharp features illuminated by the dim gold of the streetlights. </p><p>Peter's not gonna lie, he feels warm all over, blood rushing through his body to swell between his legs. He angles himself, curling over slightly to conceal his burgeoning hard-on even as he wills it to go away.</p><p>Mr. Stark smooths down the bed covers and settles on top of it, flat on his back. It really is a tight fit, even with Peter's back flat against the wall behind him. Mr. Stark's hip is so close to his groin, the weight of it pulling at the blankets.</p><p>"You don't wanna get in?" Peter asks in a quiet voice.</p><p>Mr. Stark looks over at him with a shadow of a smile. "No, that's alright, Pete," he says. He rests an arm over his forehead and closes his eyes. "Don't wanna get too comfortable or I'll sleep through the alarm. I told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to alert me when you're aunt's getting home."</p><p>"I thought you said you won't be able to go to sleep."</p><p>"I underestimated how cozy your bed is."</p><p>"Pretty sure 'cozy' is just real-estate speak for 'cramped'."</p><p>Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow. "I did offer to take the chair."</p><p>"No, no, no take-backsies. You're stuck with me now."</p><p>Mr. Stark chuckles, a low, soft sound which does nothing to help Peter's under-the-blanket-between-his-legs situation. "Sleep, Pete," the man orders. </p><p>Peter closes his eyes, certain that such a thing would be impossible.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony isn't surprised that Peter falls asleep quickly. He is surprised, however, that he managed to fall asleep too. He wakes to a soft buzzing on his wrist, informing him that May Parker is on her way home, ETA 10 minutes. He should go. He doesn't want to think about what would happen if she found him like this, in bed with her nephew, regardless of the circumstances.</p><p>It's almost 6 am. Tony actually slept through the night, no nightmares or anything. It's probably the longest, uninterrupted sleep he’s had since he can't even remember, and it's tucked up in a too-small bed and spine-unfriendly mattress. It's the company, he supposes. It's been so long since he's slept with anyone else in his bed, and his subconscious welcomes the presence.</p><p>Tony pulls himself gingerly to a sitting position, registering soreness all over his body. The injuries he sustained from the fight with Cap and Barnes are catching up with him, and sleeping in a cramped bed all night probably didn't help. He moves slowly, partly from pain, mostly because he doesn't want to wake the sleeping boy next to him.</p><p>If it's possible, Peter looks even softer in sleep. His mouth is parted slightly, and his brown curls fall onto his peaceful face. It's hard to believe that this gentle-looking kid could throw a bus with his bare hands. But if anyone were to have superhuman powers, Peter is probably the only person Tony knows who deserves it. He’s special. The kind of special that doesn’t come out of a bottle.</p><p>Tony feels a serious urge to brush his hair back, drop a kiss to his forehead, but he doesn't want to wake him. He's afraid that if Peter so much as looks at him with those eyes, sleepy-soft and trusting in the morning light, then he might not be able to leave, go back to his life that's heavy with obligation and marred with betrayal. That seems to be par of the course when it comes to superheroics. But Peter's not going to have that life, not if Tony has anything to say about it. Peter is going to have a normal, <em>safe</em> life, away from assassins and terrorists and aliens and politics. Tony's going to make sure of it.</p><p>The suit is open and waiting right outside the window. With one final look at Peter fast asleep in his bed, he steps into his suit and flies away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is gonna be a long one folks (for my standards anyway), the longest fic i've written so far. i would love to know what you guys think. i have a few chapters written up already, but some comments would really motivate me to get going with it and strengthen my commitment to this. you are the great sustenance to my fickle, fickle muse. </p><p>feel free to hit me up on tumblr/twitter too. i promise i don't bite (hard).<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The story continues, taking place during the events Spider-man: Homecoming.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Most of this is in Tony’s POV because I feel like we got a lot of Peter’s POV in the movie and I just wanted to fill in the gaps. There’s a lot of liberties taken and scene changes so it’s more canon-divergent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Tony is a world-proclaimed (and self-proclaimed, let’s face it) genius, and not just about inventions and technical know-how. He knows how to read people too. Contrary to popular belief, he's actually pretty astute in picking up the little nuances in people's mannerisms and motivations, he just doesn't care to act tactfully around it.</p><p>So Tony knows where Pepper was coming from, what she felt, why she felt that way. He knows the things he could've done to reassure her, to settle her fears. He knows the kind of man she deserves and he knows that he could be that man for her if he were so inclined.</p><p>And that's the core of it all, isn't it? He can't bring himself to change, to be better for her. He doesn't <em>want</em> to change, and to do so would be disingenuous. Hell, he blew up the entire Iron Legion for her only to get back in the workshop and make some more suits. It's not in him to change. At least not in the way she wants.</p><p><em>Does that mean I never really loved her, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?</em> Tony mused aloud one day.</p><p><em>Love is not 'if' or 'because'. Love is 'anyway' and 'in spite of'</em>, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had responded helpfully.</p><p>So Tony knows, rationally, that his relationship with Pepper was doomed, because he, himself, couldn't step up to the plate. He just had this pesky thing called 'hope' that everything would all still work out in the end, despite his shortcomings. </p><p>Unfortunately, the thing about being fully aware that you're gonna get punched in the gut is, it still fucking hurts when it happens anyway.</p><p>--</p><p>Happy has stress balls. Plural. They come in a variety of garishly primary colours - which, in Tony's personal opinion, isn't really that calming as far as chromotherapy goes - and they're the kind that has a net over it so when you squeeze it, it bulges through the gaps in a truly grotesque way. Tony is currently reclined in Happy's ergonomic chair and attempting to juggle several of these balls.</p><p>Happy steps into his office tapping on a tablet just as Tony fumbles for probably the twentieth time and Happy gives him an unimpressed look as the balls bounce all over his desk. </p><p>"What's up boss?" Happy says, then without waiting for an answer he continues, "you're in my seat."</p><p>Tony stands up and goes around the desk to pick up the stress ball that rolled off it. "You wanna go out tonight? For old times' sake?"</p><p>"Can't. Sorry," Happy says, taking out a set of keys and a phone from his pocket and setting them on his desk.</p><p>"It's Friday!"</p><p>"The movers are behind on cataloguing the 12th floor warehouse and the recyclables are piling up in the garage and if we're gonna keep on schedule with clearing up the-"</p><p>"Happy. Happy." Tony grabs him by both shoulders. "You're micromanaging, man. Do what I do, and delegate."</p><p>The look Happy gives him is annoyingly austere. "Tony. I'm handling this. You said I can take care of it and this is me, taking care of it."</p><p>Happy's phone buzzes against the hard surface of his desk. The screen lights up with new and several older unread texts from a Peter Parker. </p><p>"Is that the kid?" Tony asks.</p><p>Happy sighs. "Yeah. He's clingier than some of your old girlfriends. If he wasn't on our payroll, I would've blocked him weeks ago."</p><p>"Why don't you just mute his notifications?"</p><p>Happy pauses. "You can do that?"</p><p>Tony picks up the phone and scrolls through the messages.</p><p>
  <em>Hey Happy!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just checking in again</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Really miss our missions, hoping to do one again soon!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What is Tony up to?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tell him I say hi! *sunglasses emoji*</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey Happy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just updating you on the latest!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Helped clear the road for an ambulance</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stopped a guy trying to mug an old man</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Look at me, cleaning up Queens!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Big news! Quit Band Practice</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So I have more time for crime fighting</em>
</p><p>There's probably close to a hundred texts like these and Happy hasn't replied to a single one. Damn, that's pretty cold.</p><p>"You know what, why don't I take this off you. You seem busy enough as it is. You should focus on the move. I'll take care of the kid."</p><p>"What?" Happy looks nonplussed. "The kid doesn’t need taking care of. He’s just texting a bunch of nonsense.”</p><p>"Yeah I know. But all that buzzing must be annoying right? You don't want people to think you're carrying a vibrator around in your pocket."</p><p>"I mean, if you'd just show me how to mute his notifications-"</p><p>"I don't mind, really."</p><p>"Tony, what-"</p><p>Tony shrugs. "It's not like I got anything else to do."</p><p>A flicker of understanding crosses Happy's face and it turns into something horrifyingly like guilt. "Hey, Tony. I mean, maybe tomorrow night we could-"</p><p>"Can't. Sorry," Tony quips, mimicking Happy's tone from earlier. He waves the phone in his hand. "Busy now, unfortunately." He leaves the room, ignoring Happy calling his name behind him.</p><p>He opens up the messaging app again as he strolls through the office, only distantly noticing the other workers skirting around his path in his peripheral vision.</p><p>Peter's last text was earlier this morning, following up on the report he texted Happy the night before about the ATM robbery incident. Tony vaguely remembers Happy telling him about that. It’s inevitable really. The attack on New York left massive amounts of alien tech lying around. It was impossible for the Department of Damage Control to retrieve them all. Some must have fallen through the cracks and fell into ill-intentioned hands. In any case, that’s Damage Control’s problem now.</p><p>Tony types a text.</p><p>
  <em>What's up, buttercup</em>
</p><p>Peter replies immediately.</p><p>
  <em>Happy!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's great to hear from you!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I didn't know if you were getting my texts</em>
</p><p>The dots that indicate Peter is typing are flashing on his screen and he quickly types,</p><p>
  <em>Guess again, Spiderling</em>
</p><p>The typing stops. A few seconds pass, then,</p><p>
  <em>Mr. Stark?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At your service</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh wow Mr. Stark</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is there a mission? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I've been using the suit, like you said. It's amazing!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I think I'm really getting the hang of it and I'm ready for the next mission</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are we going sir?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is it the alien weapons?</em>
</p><p>Tony checks his watch. It's just past 1.30 pm. </p><p>
  <em>You are staying in school, I hope. I am going out for lunch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There's no mission, kid. I'm just letting you know that I'm taking over as your point man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Happy's a little busy at the moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wow really?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And you're not?</em>
</p><p>Tony grimaces. That shouldn't hurt as much as it did. From the mouths of babes, indeed. </p><p>
  <em>Guess not</em>
</p><p>Tony ends it at that. He mutes the notifications and puts the phone away in his pocket. He heads to his workshop to see if there’s anything he can mess around with. He doesn’t feel that hungry anymore.</p><p>--</p><p>"You're not gonna be one of those people who skip leg day, are you? 'Cause I think right now you need more leg days. I think all your days should be leg."</p><p>Rhodey huffs exasperatedly next to him but his rhythm doesn't falter. They're doing pull-ups together in the Avengers' training compound, keeping up with Rhodey's physiotherapy, the goal of which is to get him piloting the suit again. Tony's been making constant upgrades to the lower body exoskeletal frame to where Rhodey can now comfortably walk and run, but Tony's determined to get it to a point where full function can be restored, and that means combat.</p><p>"I'm just saying," Tony continues, breathing hard from exertion, but literally physically incapable of not running his mouth. "You got the upper body of a Greek god already. Your biceps are the size of a baby's head. You got the deltoids of a bull. And don't get me started on your trapezius muscles. Too late, I'm gonna. It's like if a manta ray mated with a-“</p><p>Rhodey lets go of the bar and hops down. He's light on his feet and the exoskeleton does its job but Tony can't help but flinch a little. Did he put enough shock absorbers on the thing? The human knee and ankle joints are ridiculously complex - Tony could design better, honestly. In fact, he could probably redesign the whole musculoskeletal system a lot better. What is up with the human spinal structure? The cumbersome inefficiency of it all-</p><p>"Tony, as much as I appreciate the companionship and running commentary, but don’t you have like, a company to run? Or a Secretary of State to avoid?”</p><p>“He’s been blowing up your phone too, huh? God, that man does <em>not</em> know how to take a hint. You know, when a man won’t take your calls, maybe he’s just not that into you.”</p><p>“Guess he never watched that movie. You should call him back and tell him. Then maybe he’ll get off my back.”</p><p>“Ugh. Pass.” Tony makes a face before grabbing his water bottle and taking a swig. “I don’t even know what’s there to talk about. We signed those stupid Accords, didn’t we? What else does he want me to do?”</p><p>“I think he thinks you’re harbouring fugitives.”</p><p>“What, Rogers and his band of merry men?” Tony scoffs. “Like I don’t have anything better to do.”</p><p>Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him. “Apparently you don’t, since you got time in your day to come pester me in the gym. Don’t you got a job?”</p><p>Tony clutches his chest dramatically. “I’m wounded. Shrapnel, back in my chest. I’m not allowed to spend time with my best friend?”</p><p>“You’re hiding. Ross is already on my ass trying to get a hold of you. I don’t need Pepper hunting me down too.”</p><p>“Yeah about that…” Tony winces. “So Pepper and I are sort of … done.” He says it about as nonchalantly as he can. He hasn’t told anybody about it yet, and he doesn’t want it to become this huge deal.</p><p>Rhodey, on the other hand, looks utterly dumbstruck, which doesn’t really go all that great with the whole ‘not wanting this to be a big deal’ thing. “Shit,” he exhales. “How, uh … how are you holding up?”</p><p>“Like this,” Tony quips, jumping up to grab the pull-up bar and heaving himself up with a grin that may or may not look a little manic.</p><p>“I’m being serious.” He certainly looks it, looking up at Tony with a nauseating combination of concern and pity.</p><p>“So am I,” Tony says, hopping back down. “It’s not a big deal. Irreconcilable differences. Girl wants something guy doesn’t have the emotional maturity to give. That kind of stuff. Usual shit.” He grabs a towel and wipes his sweaty face with it. Where are his sunglasses when he needs it?</p><p>“Right. Okay.” Rhodey pauses. “Hey, you hungry? All that physio is making me crave a cheeseburger.”</p><p>If Rhodey were any more transparent, he’d be a ghost. But Tony gratefully accepts his offer anyway.</p><p>--</p><p>Look, Ned is Peter’s best friend in the whole wide world, and he loves him, truly. But God, does he have a big fucking mouth. Why the hell did he have to announce to everyone at gym class that Peter ‘knew’ Spider-man? And now everyone’s expecting Spider-man at Liz’s party and it’s just … really embarrassing and awkward.</p><p>Peter cringes when he thinks what Mr. Stark would say if he knew that Peter got peer-pressured into showing up to a high school party in the suit.</p><p>Peter had just about had a heart attack when he saw Mr. Stark texting him. After that first round of back and forth, Mr. Stark hadn’t said anything else, and Peter feels a little apprehensive about bombarding him with texts now that he knows it’s Mr. Stark on the other end, and not Happy. He doesn’t really know where he stands with the man.</p><p>Peter had woken up alone that morning after Mr. Stark spent the night in his apartment. Peter would’ve thought it was all some crazy dream his overactive imagination conjured up, but Mr. Stark had left his jacket there on his chair and Peter may or may not have spent a few of the following nights cuddled up with it, the faint scent of Mr. Stark in the soft fabric following him into sleep.</p><p>But that was almost six months ago. Since then, Mr. Stark had shown up on TV a few times. Peter watched the press conference of him addressing Captain America’s desertion and the disbandment of the Avengers to the public. Mr. Stark’s injuries have healed – or he’s employed a good makeup artist –, he looks as handsome as ever in a clean-cut suit, and the snarky sharp tongue was back in full force.</p><p>Peter watched him on TV and wondered if it was presumptuous of him to think that he could see past the bravado, the front that Mr. Stark was putting up for the cameras. Peter watched how Mr. Stark’s hand shakes imperceptibly where it rested on the podium as he spoke, the way he shoved the tinted sunglasses back on his face immediately as he walked off stage, the way he kept his head down as he pushed past the yelling reporters.</p><p>Mr. Stark wasn’t okay. That was clear when he sought Peter out the night Captain America left. And it seems like he still isn’t that much better.</p><p>Peter had gone into Delmar’s and glanced at the row of tabloids next to the register, several of which had headings announcing Mr. Stark’s official split with Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts, in bold, sensational letters. Peter skimmed a few of the tabloids as he waited for his sandwich, reading claims about tensions with the Avengers putting strain on their relationship. Peter hurts to think how hard this must be for Mr. Stark. He feels a brash rush of anger at all the people who made Mr. Stark feel this way.</p><p>The night when Mr. Stark came to his bedroom, Peter had tried to offer comfort as best he could. But he feels woefully inadequate in the face of the larger than life Tony Stark, Iron Man, and the burden and responsibility he must bear. Peter’s not good enough for him. But he wants to be. He’ll try to be.</p><p>Peter’s sitting in the library by himself during free period, earphones on, rewatching the video they recorded in the back of Mr. Stark’s car. The man had smiled and laughed quite a bit that night, despite everything. They looked different to the billion-dollar smiles that he’s seen Mr. Stark throw around at events in front of a screaming, adoring crowd. Peter wants to see those smiles again. He wonders what he can do.</p><p>Peter opens up the chat with Mr. Stark. He sends him a link of a buzzfeed article compiling Twitter and Instagram posts of glimpses of his new suit. Ever since Ned found out about his secret identity, he’s been obsessively keeping up with Spider-man’s online presence and updating Peter about them.</p><p><em>Looks like people are digging the new upgrade!</em> he texts Mr. Stark.</p><p>Peter looks up to see Liz Allan taking a seat across from him. She still looks annoyed with him. He had just announced to the academic decathlon team last period that he won’t be joining them for Nationals.</p><p>“You’re really not going with us to Washington?” Liz asks without preamble.</p><p>“No. I’m sorry.” He really is. The team has been working so hard all year for this and he hates to let them down.</p><p>“I mean, Ned’s going. And we’re not just there for the decathlon. We’re gonna go to the monument, hang out. The hotel looks really nice…” She kind of looks at him expectantly at that, as though fancy accommodations would somehow be the deciding factor for Peter to … <em>oh</em>.</p><p>Peter feels his face heat up. “Oh. Well. I mean. I’m sure it is. But, uh,” he clears his throat. “It’s the internship thing, you know. I can’t be out of state if they need me.”</p><p>“<em>If</em> they need you? So they might not even need you here? Come on, Peter! We’re seniors now. This is our last chance at Nationals!” She looks at him imploringly and okay, she really does look very pretty. He can see how she could always get her way with those eyes of hers. Peter’s resolve actually wavers a little, but then his phone vibrates with a text from Mr. Stark.</p><p>Liz follows his eyes to the phone and scowls.</p><p>“You guys are gonna do fine without me,” Peter assures. “I’ll just be holding you back.”</p><p>“That’s not true and you know it.”</p><p>Peter smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Liz sighs and stands up. “Fine. Can’t say I didn’t try. You know, we’re so lucky I got voted in as captain instead of you, with how much of a total flake you’re being right now.”</p><p>“You’re the best team captain ever, Cap.”</p><p>Liz rolls her eyes. “Damn straight.” She points at Peter sternly. “But you better come to my party this weekend. You owe me.”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”</p><p>Liz has walked out of sight when Peter realizes that she was making sure that <em>he</em>, Peter Parker, would be coming to her party. Just him, and not Spider-man as Flash had insisted.</p><p>Peter is still trying to wrap his brain around the idea that Liz Allan might maybe, possibly, have some kind of interest in him, maybe … when his phone vibrates again.</p><p>There’s a few new texts from Mr. Stark.</p><p>
  <em>Looks like they are. You’re welcome, New York City.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do people know I made your suit? Cause I wouldn’t mind getting that fruit basket.</em>
</p><p>Peter frowns. What fruit basket?</p><p>Then he suddenly remembers what number 7 posted on Twitter. <em>Oh shit</em>. He opens the link and scrolls down and there it is. It’s a rare shot of him just standing around on the street, unlike the usual blurry distant shots of him swinging around on his webs, so it’s relatively sharper in quality, which allows the taker to zoom in and snap a close crop of the curve of his ass. The caption says ‘The booty on duty. Brb gotta send a fruit basket to Spidey’s new tailor’.</p><p>Peter has never been vain exactly. The spider bite gave him a bit of muscle definition, but overall he’s still the same short and scrawny kid he was before the bite. The change was hardly noticeable especially under his usual baggy clothes. The new Spider-man suit was anything but baggy though, and he never really paid attention to what he looks like when he wears something that … tight.</p><p>And now he just basically sent a close up of his ass to Mr. Stark.</p><p>Before he could freak out too much, he gets another text.</p><p>
  <em>Big plans this weekend?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sorta, I guess</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Got invited to a party</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Look at you, Mister Popular</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heheh not really</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What about you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now? Of course. Ask anyone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not so much back in high school</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Apparently being a 14 year old senior doesn’t get you much popularity points</em>
</p><p>Peter smiles to himself, imagining Tony Stark as a fresh-faced fourteen year old graduating amongst his older peers.</p><p>
  <em>No, I meant what are you doing this weekend?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You asking me out?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gotta say, Pete, high school parties aren’t exactly my thing</em>
</p><p>Peter blushes. He quickly types up a reply before he loses his nerve.</p><p>
  <em>Well noted. So what is your thing then?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanna make sure I show you a good time *wink emoji*</em>
</p><p>He regrets sending it when Mr. Stark takes a bit longer to reply. It’s not weird, right? It’s just banter. Banter among friends. ‘Cause they’re friends, right? Peter Parker. Friends with Tony Stark.</p><p>Peter groans. There he goes again, acting too familiar. There’s something about not being face to face with someone that makes him a bit more mouthy. It’s the same thing when he’s behind his Spider-man mask. There’s a weird sense of security that makes him feel bolder.</p><p>The phone buzzes and Peter jumps.</p><p><em>Mini-golf</em>, Mr. Stark replies.</p><p>Peter stares at his phone. He actually doesn’t know what to say to that.</p><p>
  <em>Seriously?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ve never played mini-golf in my entire life</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regular golf, sure. The old man made me take lessons</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s the dullest sport man has ever conceived</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mini-golf sounds like a riot though</em>
</p><p>Peter stifles a giggle, picturing Mr. Stark in a full three-piece suit putting colourful balls into a windmill.</p><p>
  <em>Alright, mini-golf it is</em>
</p><p>“What the hell are you grinning about?” A voice says from somewhere above him. It’s Ned, coming to sit next to him and craning his head trying to get a glimpse of his phone.</p><p>“Nothing!” Peter says, clutching his phone to his chest in a completely inconspicuous way.</p><p>Ned narrows his eyes at him. “Convincing.” Surprisingly, he doesn’t push it. Peter has a feeling that’s gonna bite him in the ass at some point. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about how we’ll debut Spider-man at Liz’s party. Okay, so…”</p><p>Peter lets Ned ramble on, nodding along at appropriate points, happy to let Ned get his way for the moment if it meant not placing his thing with Mr. Stark under close external scrutiny. Besides, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong or weird. Friends text. They do that.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony is currently sweating under his white tunic in a surprisingly humid Indian morning.</p><p>It was an impulse thing, deciding to show up to the wedding of the first daughter of the COO of Stark Industries’ New Delhi branch. He always gets invited to these things out of courtesy but he usually sends them a generous gift, a card, and an ostentatious bouquet of flowers. He never actually shows up. He doesn’t think anyone expected him to show up and he chortles a little knowing how much panic he caused everyone by RSVPing as yes.</p><p>Pepper had not been pleased.</p><p>“Are you <em>trying</em> to make me look bad?” she said crossly on the phone with Tony. “You got board members feeling like they have to show up to this thing just because <em>you’re</em> going and people keep asking me if <em>I’ll</em> be attending and you <em>know</em> I already have plans this weekend-</p><p>“I swear to God, you and your plans had nothing to do with-“</p><p>“-you have <em>any</em> idea how disruptive all of this is? Sadiq is under so much pressure already and-“</p><p>“<em>He’s</em> under so much pressure? If he didn’t want me to come, he wouldn’t have invited-“</p><p>Anyway Indian weddings are great. There’s awesome food, there’s people dancing like it’s a proper party, and the ceremony was beautiful. If being on the other side of the world also meant he had an excuse to dodge certain calls from certain Secretaries of State and avoid the press hounding him about his breakups both to his CEO and to the Avengers, then that’s just the cilantro on the tikka masala.</p><p>Tony had barely finished congratulating the radiant bride and groom when F.R.I.D.A.Y. started beeping insistently in his ear, going off about a distress signal coming from the Spider-man suit he had given Peter.</p><p>Tony did some quick mental calculations as he excuses himself to walk outside. It’s late at night in New York, Peter could be on patrol- Wait, shouldn’t he be at that party?</p><p>“Boss, the suit seems to be submerged in water, tracking shows him to be in the middle of Meadow Lake, and there’s increasing hydrostatic pressure exerted on the suit, currently at 1.2 atm and climbing,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says urgently.</p><p>“Alright, deploy Mark 47. Get him outta there, Fri.”</p><p>On the lenses of his glasses, Tony monitors the progress of his remote-controlled armour and Peter’s vitals through his suit, his anxiety increasing along with the kid’s PCO2 levels.</p><p>“Come on, thruster boost,” Tony mutters, pushing his suit to fly faster.</p><p>Tony watches through the Mark 47’s helmet as it plunges into the water, untangles Peter from the parachute he’s trapped in and lifts him out.</p><p>Peter splutters in his hold and Tony breathes a sigh of relief.</p><p>“Mr. Stark! They shot him! They- We gotta go back! He’s-”</p><p>“Hey, whoa, whoa, calm down, kid-”</p><p>“-bleeding out. I tried to stop it. I called an ambulance but-”</p><p>Peter is squirming way too much and the armour dumps him as soon as they’re a safe distance over ground.</p><p>“Mr. Stark, he’s- we gotta make sure he’s okay. There was so much blood, I couldn’t-”</p><p>“Hey, hey, breathe for a moment, Pete, come on. Slow down. What happened?”</p><p>Peter takes a deep breath, trembling in his soaking wet suit. Tony activates the instant-dry heating mechanism on the boy’s suit. “I was – oh, thanks, Mr. Stark, that’s so much better – There was some kind of meeting, like a weapons deal. These guys were showing off the alien guns like at the ATM robbery to like, a buyer, I guess? But they- He didn’t seem into it and I was just about to web them all up and oh God, Mr. Stark, it’s all my fault- they just <em>shot</em> him!”</p><p>“You said you called 911?” Tony starts scanning nearby radio frequencies.</p><p>“Yeah, but then this guy with wings showed up out of nowhere and just like swooped in and picked me up and dumped me in the lake! I didn’t get a chance to- oh shit, I don’t even know where my phone went-”</p><p>Tony locates what must be the ambulance Peter called. “They’ve got him, kid. They’re taking him to Flushing Medical Center. It’s out of your hands now.”</p><p>“Is he alive?”</p><p>“I don’t know. They’re taking him to a hospital. That should be a good sign. You have other things to be worried about. Like, what the <em>fuck </em>are you doing?”</p><p>Peter has the audacity to gape at him. “What the fuck am <em>I</em> doing? I was gonna take them down!”</p><p>“‘<em>Take them down’</em>? You realize you almost <em>drowned</em>? We have people to handle shit like this. I thought Happy told you to let it go. And then you wait until I’m on another fucking continent to almost get yourself <em>killed</em>-” Tony doesn’t realize how bad his hand is shaking and he clenches his fist, trying to hide it. Jesus, the idea of anything happening to Peter, wearing the suit that he <em>made </em>him-</p><p>“It’s not like I did it on purpose!”</p><p>He really isn’t getting it, is he?</p><p>“Pete, you almost <em>died</em>. You almost got <em>someone else </em>killed. Just … please. Let this go. Don’t go chasing after trigger-happy thugs with unstable weapons.”</p><p>Peter starts up his protestations again, but Tony interrupts him.</p><p>“Kid, I don’t wanna hear it. Go home. Get yourself safe. End call.”</p><p>Tony huffs out a ragged breath as soon as he disconnects. His chest feels heavy, the thudding of his heart feels painful, like it’s punching bruises against the inside of his ribs. The humidity seems to be pressing in on him from all sides and he’s having trouble breathing properly. Is he having another anxiety attack? He hasn’t had one of those in a while.</p><p>So much for vacation in the tropics. Tony calls for his car, planning to drive straight to the airport. If Peter’s going to keep pulling this kind of shit, he doesn’t want to be caught on the other side of the world for it.</p><p>--</p><p>Three hours, two thousand miles, and half a milligram of Xanax later, Tony has mellowed out enough to shoot Peter a text.</p><p>
  <em>Sorry I yelled at you and hung up like that</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You really scared me, kid</em>
</p><p>Tony frowns when the texts fail to deliver to Peter's phone so he tries contacting the suit he gave him. Peter replies within a few minutes. </p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry I worried you</em>
</p><p>There’s a pause as Peter constructs his next text through the A.I.</p><p>
  <em>I think the bad guys dropped one of their weapons. I found it on the way home. What should I do with it?</em>
</p><p>Tony commends the growth Peter is displaying for telling him about it instead of going off on his own. Maybe if he makes the kid feel like he’s more involved in things he’d be less likely to go rogue.</p><p>
  <em>Bring it over to the Tower</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’ll take a look at it together</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Tony accesses S.H.I.E.L.D.’s encrypted server and pulls up schematics for a Chitauri gun, projecting it into a standing hologram.</p><p>“Whoa, cool,” Peter breathes. “Is that from the Battle of New York?”</p><p>“Yep. It’s a weapon of the Chitauri. There were a bunch of these scattered around the city when we were done and I guess we didn’t pick them all up in time. Scavengers, you know. But these guns need a link to the Mothership. The Chitauri are a hive mind and apparently that connection extended to their weaponry. Once the Mothership blew up, everything went non-functional.” Tony gestures to the thing Peter brought to the lab, now sitting on a workbench. “Now tell me what you’re thinking with that.”</p><p>“Um. Well. Most of this stuff looks familiar. There’s all these microprocessors connected to this glowy thing, which is the one thing that <em>doesn’t</em> look familiar. It looks like some kind of power source that I’m guessing comes from that Chitauri weapon? Like these guys are combining alien tech with ours?”</p><p>“Right in one.” Tony takes the bastardized weapon and starts taking it apart with some pliers, prying out the glowing, purple, egg-shaped energy core. He places it under a desktop scanner, the holo-monitor above it immediately churning out line after line of data readings. He picks up the coreless husk of the weapon and points out different parts of it. “The trigger blasts it with radiation and the energy core releases a wave of electrothermal energy, which gets focused through this regulator, and out the barrel.”</p><p>“So it’s like a plasma cannon?”</p><p>“Sure. Something like that. It’s shitty workmanship though. Even worse than Hammer’s, which is saying something. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it though. It’s a federal case now. They’ll be the one taking these guys down.”</p><p>Peter doesn’t say anything to that, still examining the bastardized weapon on the bench.</p><p>“Do you hear me, Peter? You’re not getting involved in this. It’s out of your hands.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. I hear you.”</p><p>“‘Cause you’re doing that thing people do when they have no intention of doing what someone tells them to. I’d know, I’ve done it a million times.”</p><p>Peter looks up at him with a small smile. He taps the workbench with his index finger and says, “I solemnly swear that I will not get involved.”</p><p>Tony narrows his eyes at him, sensing that there’s a reference in there somewhere but refuses to get sucked in. “Alright,” he says.</p><p>Peter is quiet for a while. Then he says, “I went to the hospital to see the guy they shot.”</p><p>Tony is surprised at that. Wasn’t the guy they shot like a crook? “Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah, his name is Aaron Davis. He’s alive. They took out the bullet and everything. Tore up some arteries, that’s why he was bleeding so much. Missed his liver by like half an inch. I met his nephew in the waiting room. And … I don’t know, I guess I’m projecting. It just brought up a lot of … bad memories.”</p><p><em>Ah.</em> Tony had done a pretty thorough background check on Peter before that fateful recruitment. He knows what happened to Peter’s uncle not long after he started the whole Spider-man gig two years ago. He knows what happened to his parents long before that. He knows a thing or two about losing parental figures early in life, knows exactly the kind of complexes it could bring about.</p><p>“And Miles said – the nephew – he said that Aaron wasn’t even supposed to be there. He owed people some money and they sent him over to close the deal. But even then … Even then, he didn’t want to do it. He was trying to <em>stop</em> them and … and they <em>shot</em> him.”</p><p>Peter has a faraway look on his face, like he’s haunted by the memory of that night. “My uncle was shot trying to stop a robbery,” he says quietly. “He wasn’t supposed to be there either. I was supposed to be the one getting the milk and eggs or whatever. But I was … goofing off somewhere, I don’t know. I could’ve prevented it. I should’ve.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault, Pete.”</p><p>Peter gives him a wry smile. “Do you really believe that? ‘Cause I think if you were in my position, you would absolutely think it’s your fault.”</p><p>Well, he’s got him there. Tony is the poster-child for internalizing blame and personal responsibility. And Peter has obviously heard those platitudes before.</p><p>“When I was kidnapped by the Ten Rings, there was this other guy being held hostage with me. His name’s Yinsen. He’s the one who hooked me up to a car battery after the explosion and saved my life. Then he saved my life again when he helped me escape. Got himself killed in the process.”</p><p>“I read about that,” Peter says quietly. “I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like.”</p><p>Tony shakes his head. He still has nightmares about that cave sometimes, when he’s not having nightmares about dying in outer space. “Point is, people die. You don’t mean for them to, but you feel like the decisions you made led to circumstances where they do. The outcome may have changed if you just did something different, or it may not, there’s really no sure way of knowing. You can’t change the past. You learn. You look forward and constantly try to do better. It’s the best way of honouring their memory, I think.”</p><p>Peter sighs. “You’re right. I know you’re right. And I try to learn, I do. But I panicked. When they shot Aaron that night I just…” He shudders, breathing hard.</p><p>“Hey. Peter,” Tony places a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “He’s alive, like you said. Your quick thinking saved him. You called the ambulance and they got there in time.”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess.” Peter looks up like he just remembered something. “Oh my God, my phone! I lost it in the lake. I must’ve dropped it when I got dropped in there.” He looks utterly dismayed about it.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you a new phone. I think I got some new shipments of the latest Stark around here somewhere. Besides, can’t have my intern running around with something made by a guy named ‘Steve’”</p><p>“Really?” Peter says, surprised. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. That’s awesome!” But he still looks a little down about it.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Peter shakes his head. “No, it’s just … I had some stuff on that phone.”</p><p>“What, like contacts? Just sync it up. Even that iPhone abomination of yours still has cloud services.”</p><p>“Yeah for contacts and stuff. But um … there’s videos …”</p><p>“So? Just go to PornHub like a normal person.”</p><p>Peter rolls his eyes. “They’re not porn videos, Mr. Stark. They’re um … videos of you and me-“</p><p>The corners of Tony’s mouth twitches into a smile. “not doing porn?”</p><p>“No,” Peter says exasperatedly. “It’s when we made that alibi video in your car on the way back from the airport. I just …” He’s kinda cute when he blushes. It brings out his freckles. “It’s nice to have a video of us together.”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “Why’d you need a video? You got the real thing right here.”</p><p>“I don’t know. It’s just nice. You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything.”</p><p>“Alright, how ‘bout this? You set up your new phone and we’ll take another video. You’d probably need another alibi for your ‘Stark Internship’ anyway, right?”</p><p>Peter grins. “Okay.”</p><p>“Ooh let me print out some certificates. We’ll take some photos with those.”</p><p>--</p><p>The ferry was split clean in half. Tony had arrived at the scene of the carnage to find Peter almost getting torn apart limb from limb trying to hold the entire thing together.</p><p>Afterwards, Tony finds Peter sitting morosely on the rooftop of a building. He’s taken off his mask and the wind whips through his brown hair. Tony steps out of his suit and joins him.</p><p>“Is everyone okay?” Peter asks quietly.</p><p>“Yep, no thanks to you.” Tony knows it’s a low blow. There’s nothing Peter’s afraid of more than getting people hurt. But Tony’s <em>beyond</em> pissed. He doesn’t know how else to impress upon him how utterly stupid he was being. If Peter doesn’t care about his own well-being, then maybe he would care about other people’s. God, he was going to be sent to an early grave out of worry for this kid.</p><p>“I wasn’t gonna get involved, I swear! I was just gonna watch, make sure everything goes smoothly. I told you I … I’ve seen them shoot a guy in cold blood, I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”</p><p>“So why the <em>hell</em> would you jump in and spook the guy if you know what they’re capable of?!” Great, Tony’s hands are starting to shake again. He holds his wrist, trying to stop the trembling.</p><p>“He was taking out his gun!”</p><p>“And you didn’t think the dozen FBI agents surrounding them could handle it? <em>You</em> had to swoop in and save the day?”</p><p>“I was just trying to help!” Peter insists.</p><p>Unable to hold back, Tony grabs the sides of Peter’s face and presses his forehead to his. At least <em>that</em> got the kid to shut up. “Pete, for <em>fuck’s </em>sake,” Tony says, closing his eyes, trying to make him understand, to somehow psychically transfer his feelings of fear, worry, and relief through the touch of their foreheads. He pulls back and looks into Peter’s bewildered, brown eyes. “I can’t have you doing this. I can’t- If you died…“ Tony rests his forehead against Peter’s again and sighs. “If you died, I feel like that’s on me. I can’t have that on my conscience.”</p><p>Tony lets him go and turns his back to him so Peter can’t see how close he is to falling apart. He wipes a hand over his face in frustration. He doesn’t know what to do.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Peter’s voice is small and barely heard over the wind.</p><p>Tony turns to glare at him. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. I want you to be better than this.”</p><p>Peter looks down dejectedly. “I know, I know. I just … I just couldn’t stand by and watch something like that happen.”</p><p>Tony regards him mournfully. Too much heart has always been the kid’s problem. “You know who you remind me of? Steve Rogers. That guy doesn’t know how to back down from a fight either, doing what he thinks is right. And while I love you for it, you both have the same short-sightedness. It’s like you can’t look further than what’s within punching range. Sometimes it’s not just you and the bad guy that’s put right in front of you. You gotta be able to stand back look at the big picture. And sometimes … sometimes you gotta be the bad guy in order to keep people safe.” Tony sighs heavily. “Look, I don’t think this is working out anymore. I’m gonna need the suit back.”</p><p>Peter looks devastated. “My suit? For how long?”</p><p>“Forever. I don’t know. You’re obviously not ready for it. It’s making you reckless, making you feel like you’re invincible when you’re <em>not</em>.”</p><p>Peter’s eyes are wide and pleading. Tony’s heart breaks for it, but if Peter gets hurt, <em>really</em> hurt, then there’d be nothing left of his heart to break. “Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter begs. “I’m nothing without this suit.”</p><p>“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have it,” Tony snaps.</p><p>Peter is struck dumb at that. Tony hates how he’s starting to sound.</p><p>“Peter, I <em>told</em> you the feds were handling this. I <em>told</em> you to stay out of it. You <em>promised</em> me you would. Whatever I ask, you seem to do the <em>exact opposite</em> and it gets you in trouble. So for once can you just … do what I say and give me the suit?”</p><p>Peter looks like he still wants to bargain. He’s searching Tony’s eyes with his, trying to find some way to soften his resolve but Tony stands firm. Finally he says in a quiet voice, “I don’t have any other clothes.”</p><p>“Okay, we’ll sort that out.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback towards the previous chapter. I was in a bit of a rut before I posted it because I didn’t think people would be interested and I didn’t really wanna commit my time into something that people won’t be into, you know? So I was very pleasantly surprised by the response and I appreciate everyone who reached out and left a comment. You guys are amazing and you’re really making me excited to continue with this. </p><p>Let me know what you think of this chapter. And as always, feel free to hit me up at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter and Tony deal with the aftermath of their falling out. Takes place during the second half of Homecoming</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“You know, maybe it’s for the best.” Ned. Trying to be supportive. </p><p>“<em> How </em> is this for the best?” Peter is trying not to sound like a petulant brat. He knows he’s been such a dark cloud of negative energy at school ever since Mr. Stark took back the Spider-man suit and he’s not been much fun to be around.</p><p>Midtown Tech’s cafeteria doesn’t really have great acoustics, but Flash doesn’t seem to care. He bursts into the cafeteria during lunch hour with the marching band at his heels playing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes off You’, Flash himself holding a microphone, singing in a surprisingly not-offkey voice, making his way towards Sally Avril, sitting at the cheerleader table.</p><p>“You’re not constantly on the brink of death anymore?” Ned says, like it’s obvious. “Besides, Tony Stark didn’t say anything about you not being Spider-man at all. You can just go back to doing what you were doing before all the Avengers stuff. You never needed the suit for that.”</p><p>“You mean give directions to tourists and return stolen bikes?” </p><p>“There's dignity in that.”</p><p>Peter and Ned watch as Flash finishes his song with a dramatic flourish and drops to one knee in front of Sally and her friends, asking with his microphone-amplified voice that booms across the entire cafeteria for her hand in prom date. </p><p>“I freakin’ hate promposals,” Ned grumbles as Sally squeals out a ‘yes’ and pulls Flash in for a hug. There’s somewhat tepid applause all around and the marching band files awkwardly out of the room. Peter’s so glad he quit marching band months ago.</p><p>“10 Things I Hate About You is her favourite movie apparently,” Peter says. </p><p>“Who normalized promposals anyway? It’s a school dance. An important milestone in one’s life, for sure. But not one that warrants a ‘posal’.”</p><p>“So how are you gonna ask Betty?”</p><p>“I have <em> no idea </em>,” Ned says, panicking. “What should I do, Peter? I can’t sing!”</p><p>“No, you can’t,” Peter agrees. “I don’t think Betty’s big on grand gestures. She’ll probably just get annoyed if you put her on the spot like that.”</p><p>“Yeah but I can’t just <em> ask </em> her. There’s like expectations with these things. You don’t want your girlfriend to be the only girl in school who didn’t get a special promposal.” Ned makes a face. “Ugh, make me stop saying ‘promposal’. It’s such a gross word.”</p><p>“Special doesn’t have to mean like weird, public displays. Just take her out somewhere nice, show her a good time, and pop the question.”</p><p>“Huh.” Ned turns to Peter with a smile. “You’re a real romantic, you know that?”</p><p>Peter grunts noncommittally. “That’s me. Peter the Love Guru.”</p><p>“And yet, you waste your talents. You do realize you’re a senior now.” </p><p>It’s a conversation they have annoyingly often: Peter and his perpetual state of singleness. It doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t know why it bothers Ned so much. “I told you, I don’t have time for that stuff.”</p><p>“Well… maybe you kinda do now. I mean, maybe this is a good time to take a break from all your after-school crime-fighting stuff. There’s only like a few weeks of school left. Might as well make the most of it while you can.”</p><p>Peter’s enhanced hearing picks up conversations of people sitting around them in the cafeteria. Most of them are talking about prom, who’s taking who, what they’re gonna wear, which after-party to go to. Peter, on the other hand, had fought the Avengers, been involved in cases of black-market weapons dealing. He hangs out with Iron Man. Or he used to, anyway.</p><p>The point is, once you’ve done all of that, it’s hard to go back and do regular high school things. It all feels so … superficial. And Peter knows that makes him sound like he has some sort of superiority complex and he does feel kinda shitty about it. But he can’t help himself. There’s much bigger things out there than <em> prom </em>.</p><p>“You should totally ask Liz Allan to prom before somebody else does.”</p><p>Peter sighs. “Ned…”</p><p>“I’m being serious, Peter,” Ned says. And he is, he’s got his serious face on. “I have it on very good authority that Liz doesn’t have a date yet ‘cause she’s been so busy with being on the committee and everything. But <em> also </em> , she’s been dodging anyone’s that’s been hinting about asking her ‘cause she’s waiting for someone in <em> particular </em>to ask her.” He looks at Peter pointedly.</p><p>Peter scoffs. “And you think that’s <em> me </em>?”</p><p>“<em> How </em>can you not realize she’s into you?” </p><p>It’s not that Peter is completely oblivious. He just didn’t think she was serious about it. </p><p>But that’s certainly something to think about. Maybe a bit of high school drama is what he needs to get his mind off this whole thing with Mr. Stark. </p><p>He and Mr. Stark haven’t spoken or even texted since that day of the ferry debacle. Peter sometimes finds himself staring at his new StarkPhone, waiting for it to ring. He doesn’t want to be the first one to reach out but it seems highly improbable that Mr. Stark would be the one to call him and take him back.</p><p>Mr. Stark is probably not even thinking about him at all.</p><p>“Okay,” Peter concedes. “So how do you think I should ask her?”</p><p>Ned grins and they begin to plan.</p><p>--</p><p>“Yeah, I saw it on CNN,” Rhodey says, dipping a French fry into his milkshake before popping it in his mouth. Tony makes a face at it. “Nobody was hurt, though right?”</p><p>“Only a certain web-slinger’s ego,” Tony says. They’re having lunch at a diner-style joint, as part of their increasingly regular get-togethers ever since The Breakups™. It’s probably a little too greasy for both of their middle-aged arteries, but all the workouts they do have gotta make up for it, right?</p><p>“So you took away his toys?” Rhodey teases. “Did you ground him as well? Send him to his room without dessert?” </p><p>Tony groans. “God, I sound like my dad, don’t I?”</p><p>“You sound like <em> a </em> dad, not like <em> your </em> dad. You care a lot more than your dad would’ve in this situation,” Rhodey says. “What’s with you and this kid anyway? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it kinda suits you. But I never really thought you’d be the mentoring type. Or is this some weird rebound thing?”</p><p>Tony chokes on his chocolate milkshake. “I’m not <em> hooking up </em> with him,” he splutters.</p><p>“I meant because of the whole <em> Avengers </em> break-up.” Rhodey looks amused. “You used to have a whole group of superheroes to feed and put a roof over. Now you’ve just got …. me. And some kid whose name I don’t even know.”</p><p>“Ha, and I still managed to screw it up when it’s just the two of you,” Tony says darkly.</p><p>“The hell are you talking about?”</p><p>Tony glances pointedly at his friend’s exoskeleton leg supports.</p><p>Rhodey snorts. “You’re so full of yourself, you know. You’re not responsible for every single thing or person in the world. You think I did all of this for <em> you </em>?”</p><p>“If you hadn’t sided with me about the Accords-“</p><p>“I didn’t sign the damn thing because <em> you </em> did. I did it because I believed it was the right thing to do. You just happened to agree with me.” Rhodey looks at Tony shrewdly. “And I’m willing to bet that whatever it is you’re flagellating yourself over with the Spider-man isn’t as much your fault as you’d like it to be.”</p><p>“I recruited him. I’m the one who got him into this mess.”</p><p>“What mess? The kid’s been saving people, punching things, doing his own business long before you came into the picture with your fancy gadgets. You didn’t <em> create </em> Spider-man. It’s not all about <em> you </em>, you know.”</p><p>Tony frowns. He didn’t think that. Not really. He did feel a sense of responsibility and protectiveness over Peter but only because … why, because he gave him the suit? The suit isn’t what made Spider-man who he is. Hell, he even told Peter as much. What was the point of all that? Was he just trying to absolve himself of responsibility by cutting ties with him? Tony feels a little sick about it.</p><p>“Do you think I did the right thing?” he asks.</p><p>“I don’t know.” Rhodey shrugs. “You know him better than I do. What were you expecting would happen anyway?”</p><p>“I don’t know. That he’d … learn? You weren’t there, Rhodes. That’s twice now he’s almost gotten himself killed because he was being a reckless little bonehead-“</p><p>“I’m not disagreeing with you. I get that all the time with rookies in the Air Force. Young, idealistic, with a real dangerous thirst to prove themselves. They’re gonna screw up. That’s a given. And sure, getting knocked down a peg or two may do them some good. But if you’re serious about this kid, then you gotta be there for him. You said no one else knows about his Spider-man gig right? Last thing he needs is to pick up some of your lone-wolf tendencies and get all self-destructive.” He levels Tony with an austere look.</p><p>“That was one time,” Tony says dismissively. “You don’t think he’d really do that?”</p><p>“Again, I don’t know this kid,” Rhodey reminds him. “Also, what <em> is </em> with the whole secret identity thing anyway? Is he like, a celebrity or something? Some kind of Hannah Montana situation?”</p><p>“That’s not what Hannah Montana’s about.”</p><p>“You’d know, wouldn’t you,” Rhodey quips.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony had meant to call Peter. He really did. He just didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Besides, phones work both ways right? Peter could’ve called, or at least texted. <em> He’s </em> the one who screwed the pooch here.</p><p>Then Happy called, frantic as all hell, and it turns out Tony’s the one who screwed the bigger pooch. He didn’t give a shit about the plane-load of stuff that got hijacked and crash landed on Coney Island. Peter was out there confronting the hijacker all on his own. Without a suit.</p><p>Tony flies around the wreckage in ever widening circles, cursing to himself for taking away Peter’s suit because now he can’t track him. </p><p>Peter had actually done it. Taken down the ringleader of the black market weapons dealer, trussed him up with his webs complete with a note, Spider-man style. But he himself was nowhere to be found. Happy is reporting some damage to the plane’s cargo scattered all over the beach but he really couldn’t give any less of a shit because where the <em> fuck </em> is-</p><p>There.</p><p>Perched precariously on top of the rollercoaster frame, Peter sits with his back against the wood scaffolding. He’s back in his pitiful onesie and Tony’s stomach drops at seeing how terrible the kid looks. He’s covered in soot and dirt, his face is a mosaic of bruises, he has one hand wrapped around his middle, and he’s taking short, shallow breaths like every movement is causing him pain.</p><p>“Peter.” Tony stops at a hover in front of him, opening the face plate to let him know he’s here. He came for him. </p><p>Peter looks at him with bloodshot eyes, watery with unshed tears. He doesn’t say anything.</p><p>“Peter, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m perfect. Never better,” Peter says flatly. Okay so he’s still mad at Tony for taking his suit. That’s great, Tony’s feeling pretty angry at himself for it too. </p><p>Tony moves closer, as close as he can without singeing the wooden scaffolding with his repulsors. “Come on, Pete, let’s get you out of here, get those injuries looked at.”</p><p>“I don’t need a hospital.”</p><p>“So we won’t go to a hospital. You wanna heal on your own? Fine. But don’t do it on a fucking rollercoaster. I’ll take you anywhere you want. My place, your place. Wherever.” Tony holds out an armoured hand, begging Peter to take it. “Come on. Please.”</p><p>Peter’s jaw twitches and to Tony’s horror, he sees a single tear fall down his face, trailing a wet track through his dirty cheek. Oh God, what has he done? </p><p>But the boy nods shakily, getting to his feet. Even injured as he was, he has great balance. “Not my place,” he says. “Don’t want May seeing me like this.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll take you to the Tower.”</p><p>Peter takes Tony’s hand and the older man scoops him up, holding him carefully against his chest as he zooms out of there. Peter presses his face against Iron Man’s chest plate, shielding himself from the wind. He shivers as the strong winds whip through the flimsy cotton of his onesie and he snuggles closer, as though trying to find body warmth through all that armour. Tony flies faster.</p><p>Avengers Tower is mostly empty from the move, but Tony still has his apartments intact. He flies straight through the open doors of the rooftop deck and deposits Peter gently on his feet in the middle of the lounge. Peter blinks in the low lights, looking around. </p><p>Tony quickly steps out of his suit, letting it move itself into disassembly. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., scan him,” he orders.</p><p>There’s a brief hum and F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces, “Peter has non-displaced fractures of his left 5th, 6th, and 7th ribs with corresponding pulmonary contusions, multiple contusions on his right ribs, and a mild concussion. There are multiple lacerations that are showing signs of rapid healing, none that seem to require medical suturing. All injuries seem to be healing rapidly but the accelerated metabolism is burning through his glycogen storage. I’d recommend some high sugar intake, boss.”</p><p>“On it,” Tony says, heading to the bar and opening the fridge, rummaging around until he finds a can of Coke. “You want ice with this?”</p><p>“Yeah. But like, for my face,” Peter says tiredly. He’s still just standing around awkwardly in the middle of the room.</p><p>“Take a seat or something. You look like you’re about to pass out.”</p><p>“But I’m all like, sooty.”</p><p>“Who cares. Just sit down.”</p><p>“Your couch is white.”</p><p>Tony walks over to him with an opened can of Coke and some ice wrapped in a hand towel. “Peter. For the love of God, sit your ass down. I’ll buy a new goddamn couch.”</p><p>Peter huffs and sits down gingerly, taking the soda and drinking slowly. Tony sits down next to him, pressing the ice pack over the swelling bruise around Peter’s left eye. Peter jerks away. “I can do that myself.”</p><p>Tony sighs, letting Peter grab the ice pack from him. He really doesn’t know how to do good by anyone, does he? Yet another well-intentioned superhero, battered and broken at Tony’s hands. He’s trying so hard to do the right thing, to protect and keep people safe, but he can’t seem to escape his legacy of destruction.</p><p>“I’m sorry I took your suit,” Tony finally says, voice full of regret. “I really thought … Well, regardless of what I thought, this is all my fault. I messed up. And I’m sorry I put you through this.”</p><p>“It’s alright, Mr. Stark. I had it coming. I mean, it’s just the sort of tough-love moment that I needed, right? Prove that it’s the man that makes the suit, not the other way around?”</p><p>“Sure, but I hate that you had to learn it this way.”</p><p>“Ehh, what better reality check than getting a building dropped on you?”</p><p>Tony gapes. “You got a <em> building </em> dropped on you? Oh that bird is <em> dead </em>.”</p><p>Incredibly, Peter laughs, then grips his side, wincing. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m still healing.”</p><p>“Well don’t laugh, ‘cause I’m not joking, kid.” Tony goes back to the bar and starts rummaging in the drawers for some ibuprofen. “Are you on your cycle? All I got’s a Motrin.”</p><p>“Yeah I’m due in a few days,” Peter quips. </p><p>Tony hands him the pills with a glass of water. “Seriously, Pete. Are you sure you don’t wanna see a doctor? I got one on call for all my Iron Man shit. You got broken ribs for crying out loud. If nothing else, she’d be able to prescribe you some stronger stuff.”</p><p>“Like you’d ever need a prescription if you wanted hard drugs.”</p><p>“You want me to do that? I can give some of my old dealers a call. What are you up for, fentanyl? Demerol? I’ll get it for you.”</p><p>“No, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>“It’s what I do, you know. I buy stuff. And things I can’t buy, I make. It’s what I do for the people I lo… It’s what I do for my people. Like back when the Avengers were a thing. I was the guy who … you know.” Tony makes vague gestures towards the room, the building, the former Avengers Tower. “And you’re my people now.”</p><p>Peter stares down at the soda can he’s holding, thumb tapping absently at it. “So why did you take away my suit then?” he asks quietly.</p><p>Tony hesitates. “I don’t know. I was just … I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was keeping you safe. I guess I didn’t really account for just how much of a … of a hero you already are. You’d do the right thing even if it’s at risk to yourself. And even more important, you <em> know </em> what the right thing is. I said I wanted you to be better but the truth is … you’re already miles better than me. I don’t know where I get off trying to parent you about it.”</p><p>“I don’t need another parental figure in my life, Mr. Stark. I had a father. And an uncle. It didn’t really end well for either of them. Or for me, I guess. If I’m really one of  your people, maybe I could be your … your friend?”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, of course you’re my friend.”</p><p>“Okay.” Peter smiles.</p><p>“So will you let me do what I’d usually do for my friends?”</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>Tony looks at him expectantly.</p><p>“You’re not gonna kill the Vulture,” Peter says sternly. “Or illegally purchase opioids.”</p><p>“Well you’re no fun. What can I do, then?”</p><p>“Um, can you … can you maybe get me a new phone? I kinda lost it again,” Peter says sheepishly. When Tony raises his eyebrows, Peter continues defensively, “I was using it to track the Vulture’s car! It’s probably still in there. Or maybe he took it, I don’t know.”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “Alright, new phone. Done.”</p><p>Peter drains his soda and sets it down on the table. “And is it alright if I take a shower, Mr. Stark? I feel all gross.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. Use the en suite. I’ll get you a towel.” </p><p>Tony leads the way to his bedroom and points out the bathroom. Peter walks in uncertainly and opens the bathroom door, whistling when he turns on the light and sees what it’s like in there. Tony notices he’s still limping a little. </p><p>“You sure you’d be alright in there?”</p><p>“What, you offering to bathe me too?”</p><p>“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Tony hands him a clean towel from his closet.</p><p>Peter snorts, taking the towel and closing the bathroom door behind him.</p><p>Tony hears the shower start and he goes back to his closet to find something for Peter to wear. He wonders if there’s anything that’ll fit. Despite his strength and musculature, Peter’s surprisingly slender. Tony spots a shirt that he hardly wears due to it being too small. It even has a science pun on it, something about atoms losing electrons, Peter would like that. Tony thinks Pepper used to wear this shirt when she lived here.</p><p>Tony takes a pair of unused boxers, still in their packaging, a pair of sleep pants, and takes them to the bedroom. He hangs them up around the bathroom door handle, knocking on the door and letting Peter know that they’re there. </p><p>While he waits, Tony goes to the lab and picks up a new phone for Peter. It doesn’t take much effort to brick the old phone and it’s much easier to clone the data from it into the new one since they’re both StarkPhones. </p><p>On the way back to the penthouse level, Happy calls him, giving a report on damages and the Vulture’s arrest. Tony’s planning on doing his own interrogations too. Forget about property damage, he wonders if it’s possible to charge him with attempted murder without compromising Spider-man’s identity and involvement.</p><p>Tony returns to his bedroom just in time for the bathroom door to open. Peter appears in a slight puff of steam, the unbruised parts of his face are clean and pink, and the swelling around his eye looks significantly better. His hair is damp and curlier than usual. There’s a droplet of water clinging to the side of his neck that instantly draws Tony’s attention.</p><p>“Mr. Stark, is it okay if I stay here for the night? I don’t want May to ask questions about all of this.” Peter gestures at his battered face. “I’ll tell her I’m staying at Ned’s.”</p><p>“Yeah, do whatever you need.” Tony hands Peter his new phone. “The guest rooms are all empty, though. Everything’s been moved out to the compound upstate. So if you don’t mind staying here with me …” </p><p>“Oh.” Peter looks uncertain. “Here with you as in … here in this room with you?”</p><p>“What, are you kicking me out to the couch outside? After you got it all sooty? I don’t know if you recall, but your bed was <em> much </em> tinier than mine and we both fit into that just fine.”</p><p>“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant, Mr. Stark! I just meant … I don’t know what I meant. Never mind. And I don’t mind. Really.”</p><p>“Cool. Glad that’s sorted out.” Tony goes to the bathroom to get cleaned up. And calm down a little. He turns on the shower jets as cold as it could go.</p><p>When he returns to the bedroom, Peter is already tucked up under the blankets, looking small and delicate on the big bed and soft pillows. Tony’s heart thuds uncomfortably at the sight but he’s keenly aware that Peter is watching him so he tries not to let it show. He climbs in the bed and turns off the lights.</p><p>It’s not like the last time they shared a bed. Even though they’re both under the blankets this time, they’re not squeezed in together. There’s space between their bodies large enough for another person to fit into but at the same time, the proximity feels more acute. It wouldn’t take much at all to slide closer, to really comfort him the way he wants to, to feel him safe and alive. Maybe his arms under the blankets would be able to protect him better.</p><p>Tony doesn’t even know why he went straight to bed. He’s still a little amped up from the adrenaline of the night and he’s nowhere near sleepy. He’d usually go down to the workshop to blow off some steam but somehow he doesn’t want to leave Peter all by himself. </p><p>“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice sounds small in the dark. “Is it okay if we turn on one of the lights? Just so it’s not completely dark.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course.” Tony turns on the ambient lighting recessed in the headboard, adjusting it so it just softly illuminates the room with a faint golden glow. “Is that better?” </p><p>Peter’s eyes look extra big and brown under the muted lights and Tony’s heart does that painful thud again. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sorry. I just … I don’t really like it when it’s super dark like that. Especially after a bad fight.”</p><p>“Understandable,” Tony says.</p><p>Peter is lying flat on his back, blanket pinned tightly under his armpits. He doesn’t even seem to be trying to sleep, just sort of staring off into space. Tony watches him silently. It probably should be awkward, the two of them lying in bed, neither of them sleeping. But it’s strangely peaceful. </p><p>“It’s so stupid,” Peter mumbles, so quietly Tony could barely hear him.</p><p>“What is?” Tony asks.</p><p>“When I was under all that rubble … I couldn’t get out at first. It was so heavy. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe, it was pressing all around me. I thought … It’s so stupid, but I thought you would … come out of nowhere and get me out, or something. Like you did at the lake. And on the ferry. It’s so stupid.” </p><p>“Oh, Pete. If I knew you were out there, that you were in trouble, I would’ve been there in a <em> second </em>. I would’ve-“</p><p>Peter shakes his head frustratedly. “But that’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to. And you <em> didn’t </em> have to. I got out on my own eventually. But the fact that for a while I just laid there, waiting for you to swoop in and save me … It’s pathetic. I should be better than that. I <em> am </em> better than that.”</p><p>Tony sighs. “Pete, I know I’ve been giving you a hard time with all the stuff that’s been going on. But I didn’t mean for you to think that you had to be … that you had to do everything all on your own. There’s nothing wrong with needing help.”</p><p>“But how else am I supposed to show you that I’m … that I can <em> do this </em> , that I’m worthy of the suit, of being <em> Spider-man </em>, and of the Avengers, I-“</p><p>“The Avengers are a <em> team </em> . That’s the whole <em> point </em>. We’re supposed to rely on each other, support each other. Peter,” Tony rests his hand on Peter’s shoulder, making sure he’s looking at him. “I don’t ever want you to think that you’re alone in this.”</p><p>Peter’s eyes are wide and watery, his lower lip trembles, and before Tony could do anything, Peter lurches forward and throws his arms around Tony’s stomach, burying his face into Tony’s chest.</p><p>“I was so scared,” Peter sniffles, a little muffled by Tony’s thin sleep shirt. “I thought I was gonna die under there.”</p><p>“Oh, Pete,” Tony murmurs, his heart aching for him. He holds him close, giving him a gentle squeeze so as not to hurt his injured ribs. He rubs circles on Peter’s back, feeling him take shallow, ragged breaths. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re so brave.”</p><p>Tony doesn’t know how long they were holding each other, but he could’ve stayed like that forever, with Peter in his arms. He makes low, soothing sounds, feeling Peter’s breath slow down and the tension leave his body. Tony doesn’t let go, though. He wants to be a safe space for Peter, wants him to know that no matter what, Tony will be there to be anything he needs.</p><p>When Peter finally pulls away, he makes a little distressed noise and touches at a few wet spots on Tony’s shirt. “Oh fuck, sorry,” he whispers, wiping at his eyes. </p><p>“It’s okay,” Tony says. He leans over to his bedside table and grabs a box of tissues. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Peter nods, taking a tissue and blowing his nose with it. “Sorry about that.”</p><p>“Hey, none of that. Better out than in, I always say,” Tony says with a smile. Peter chuckles wetly. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water. Will you be okay in here for a bit?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course,” Peter says.</p><p>“Okay,” Tony says, moving on instinct and leaning in to kiss Peter on the forehead. He pulls away sharply, looking into Peter’s wide, startled eyes. “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he mutters, making a hasty exit from the room.</p><p>Tony panics a little as he opens the kitchen cabinets in search of a clean glass. Was that out of line? He just meant to be comforting is all. He hated seeing Peter so scared and unsure of himself, though he’s not gonna lie, a part of him felt warm at how Peter allowed him to see his vulnerabilities, took comfort from him. </p><p>Tony pours water from the filtered tap with slightly shaking hands. It doesn’t have to be weird, right? </p><p>Tony returns to the bedroom to find Peter frowning at his new phone. “What’s wrong?” he asks.</p><p>“Apparently Ned is staying at a hotel with his girlfriend tonight so I can’t tell May I’m with him.”</p><p>“Huh. That’s, uh …” Man, teenagers these days are a lot more … liberated, huh.</p><p>“It’s prom night,” Peter explains at seeing Tony’s no-doubt perturbed expression. “Isn’t it like, tradition to stay at a hotel with your date after prom?”</p><p>“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t know. I was like fourteen and I didn’t even go to senior prom.”</p><p>Peter nods. “I didn’t even make it to the door. Had to ditch my prom date to go thwart her dad’s evil plans.”</p><p>Tony blinks. “You went to prom with the Vulture’s daughter?”</p><p>“Technically we went there together, but we didn’t exactly spend any time there with each other cause I had to-” Peter pauses. “You don’t think that’s why he dropped a building on me, do you?”</p><p>“Peter-,” Tony grimaces.</p><p>“Too soon?”</p><p>“Hey, it’s your trauma. Far be it from me to criticize your coping mechanisms.”</p><p>Peter stares at his phone contemplatively. “Maybe I’ll just tell May that I’m staying at a hotel with someone too. She’d be cool with that, right?”</p><p>“I’m sure Aunt Hottie stayed at her own share of hotel rooms after her prom.” When Peter makes a face at that, Tony continues with a grin, “what, you don’t think so?”</p><p>“I don’t <em> want </em> to think of it in <em> any </em> way.”</p><p>“Well that makes one of us- hey!” Tony exclaims with a laugh when Peter smacks him with a pillow.</p><p>“Please stop talking about my aunt when you’re in bed with me.”</p><p>“‘In bed with you’?” Tony laughs. “Well at least you won’t really be lying. You really are technically about to sleep with someone tonight.”</p><p>Peter scrunches his nose in distaste. It looks incredibly adorable. He sighs. “Whatever. I think as long as I text her in the morning, she shouldn’t be all weird about it.” He puts the phone down on the bedside table and looks up at Tony, accepting the offered glass of water with a smile. “Thanks,” he says shyly, before taking a sip.</p><p>“Does it suck, losing all these normal high school experiences cause you gotta do the superhero thing?” Tony says.</p><p>Peter shrugs. “Not really. I spent most of my years in high school being Spider-man. It’s pretty much all I know.”</p><p>“You never … wish you were just like everyone else?”</p><p>Peter looks thoughtful. “Sometimes. Not often. I don’t think being like everyone else is all it’s cracked up to be. Or if there’s even such a thing. Everyone’s got baggage, things they have more of, things they have less of. In a lot of ways, I <em> am </em> just like everyone else. But having the power to help people … I like it. I like being able to do my part.”</p><p>Tony thinks about what he would’ve been like if he acquired superpowers at fifteen-years-old. He doesn’t think he would’ve handled it half as well as Peter did. But then again, Peter’s special. There’s something about his innate make-up, the very atoms of his being, that golden heart beating in his chest that makes him perfectly suited for all that power and responsibility. He never needed to be tortured in a cave to gain that perspective.</p><p>“But I mean, you said you didn’t go to prom either,” Peter continues. “I’m guessing you didn’t have a lot of that ‘normal high school experience’ too what with being a literal boy genius. Doesn’t seem like we really missed out on much.”</p><p>“No, you’re right, I mean … high school is just gonna be a blip in your life. There’s a much bigger world out there full of whatever wild or even normal thing you wanna experience. And you’ve got plenty of time to do it all.” Tony’s mind suddenly races at the possibilities of showing Peter the world, of being there to watch him see and feel things for the first time. Tony’s always been a futurist, sure, but never about something like this, something so human, so grounded.</p><p>“Tell me what you were like in high school,” Peter prompts. He’s sitting on the bed with his whole body facing Tony, giving him his full attention.</p><p>Tony scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t remember much of it. It was a boarding school and I was only there for like, two years. I remember the kids there being absolute assholes, though.”</p><p>“Did they bully you?” Peter asks with concern.</p><p>“Not in the dunking-my-head-in-the-toilet sense. The waterboarding came later in life. It was more of a … psychological warfare kinda thing. I didn’t really have any friends in high school.”</p><p>Peter looks sad to hear that. “Oh. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Nah, it was fine. It was hardly the worst thing that ever happened to me. It got a lot better in college when I got roomed with Rhodey.”</p><p>“I’m glad you have Colonel Rhodes. I saw you guys on TV when you did that press conference. You seem really close. It’s like me and Ned. I never meant for him to find out about the whole Spider-man thing but … it’s nice to have people on your team.”</p><p>“Well then I’m glad you have Ned too.”</p><p>They stay up trading stories of their life, from light-hearted anecdotes of their friends to the crazy things Iron Man and Spider-man got up to in the past. As they talk, their bodies gradually shift from sitting positions to lying down facing each other, talking, until miraculously, they could both barely keep their eyes open and fall asleep easily. </p><p>--</p><p>Peter wakes up more comfortable than he’s ever been in his life. The bed has just the right amount of firmness to it and the blanket he’s under feels like a cloud with how thick yet weightless it is. But of all things, the most pleasant thing he’s waking up to is the feeling of a solid body pressed against his back, a strong arm draped possessively over his stomach. </p><p>And then as Peter’s mental faculties start returning to him, his senses go into overdrive, registering everything that’s happening. Mr. Stark is <em> spooning </em> him. That’s Mr. Stark’s warm breath huffing over the back of his neck, his nose snuffling into his hair as he snores softly. That’s Mr. Stark’s steady heartbeat thudding through his chest. That’s Mr. Stark’s <em> morning wood </em> all snug up between Peter’s ass crack, the hard, unmistakable heft of it slotting into the space like it belongs there. </p><p><em> Shit </em>, Peter thinks, finding his own cock just as hard. It’s too good. It all feels too good, too right, every part of their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces. And yet, Peter’s throbbing between his legs, wanting to move, wanting to shift his hips just a little, just enough to get a better feel of Mr. Stark’s cock, just so it brushes up right against-</p><p>He moves without being conscious of it, just a little twitch of his pelvis and the thick shaft of Mr. Stark’s cock dips further into the cleft of his ass. There’s layers of clothing between them but they’re thin, too thin, and it feels like Mr. Stark is right up in there. <em> Fuck </em>. </p><p>Peter bites his lip to stop from whimpering, feeling pre-come blurt out the head of his swollen cock. He forces himself to shuffle forward, create some space between them, but Mr. Stark’s arm instinctively tightens around him and Peter freezes. Mr. Stark’s quiet snores continue and Peter very slowly slips himself out from under his arm. </p><p>Lying on his back, Peter looks over at Mr. Stark’s sleeping figure. The man is absolutely gorgeous in the faint morning light streaming through the sheer curtains. His thick lashes flutter from the REM under his closed eyelids. His lips are parted slightly and Peter has a brief, wild thought of leaning in to find out what it feels like against his own lips. </p><p>He’s in bed with Mr. Stark. He’s <em> in bed </em> with Mr. Stark, slept with him – in the literal sense only, but still – woke up with him and fuck, he’s so turned on. Peter’s hand trails down between his legs involuntarily, grazing against the hard aching bulge there, and he physically has to clamp his other hand over his mouth to stop from moaning out loud. </p><p>No, he needs to deal with this. No way is it ever gonna go away just by sheer force of will.</p><p>Peter climbs out of the bed slowly, careful not to make sudden movements that’ll wake Mr. Stark and heads to the bathroom. </p><p>He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, seeing his face flushed, but free of the bruises and cuts he sustained the previous night. Lifting his shirt up reveals smooth, unblemished skin where last night was a motley of dark, ugly bruises. Trailing his eyes further down his body, he sees the jut of his erection through the thin sleep pants Mr. Stark lent him. He gives his reflection a guilty look before turning away into the shower.</p><p>It only takes a few quick strokes, swirling thoughts of doing filthy, indecent things to the man sleeping unawares just behind that wall, imagining the weight of Mr. Stark’s indisputably large cock in his mouth, biting into his knuckle to muffle the sounds his pleasure until he’s spilling onto the tiles, panting under the stream of water over his head.</p><p>He dries off quickly, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror as he pulls his clothes back on.</p><p>Mr. Stark is awake when Peter returns to the bedroom, sitting up in bed with the blankets rumpled around his waist. He’s bleary-eyed, looking the exact opposite of put together with the thin tank top he slept in and his dishevelled grey-flecked dark hair sticking up in unruly places and he’s so, so handsome that it feels almost painful in Peter’s chest. </p><p>“Hey,” Peter breathes. “You’re awake.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Mr. Stark says, voice still gravelly with sleep. Peter’s cock gives a valiant twitch in his boxers at the sound. Mr. Stark clears his throat. “Did you take another shower?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter says sheepishly. “Woke up feeling kinda … sweaty.”</p><p>“Alright, well. If you’re done with the bathroom…” Mr. Stark shuffles past him and closes the bathroom door behind him. Peter has a moment of irrational panic where he thinks Mr. Stark will find that he hasn’t washed away all the remains of his cum from the bathroom tiles, but he must’ve right? The shower was running when he did it. Right?</p><p>Peter looks around awkwardly in Mr. Stark’s room. It’s weird that this isn’t even the first time he and Mr. Stark shared a bed but somehow this time it feels more … <em> more </em>. </p><p>Last time he had woken up alone and there was barely any trace of Mr. Stark in his room and it almost felt like a dream, like it didn’t really happen and Peter had just imagined it in his head. But this time … Mr. Stark’s giant bed is right there, looking much too dishevelled with its rumpled sheets and creased pillows for something that didn’t see anything beyond a PG rating last night. He can hear the faucet running and a slight buzzing in the bathroom where Mr. Stark is brushing his teeth with an electric toothbrush. He can still feel the memory of Mr. Stark’s hard-on all up on his ass, his thick arms holding him close-</p><p>No. He is <em> not </em> gonna pop another boner.</p><p>The bathroom door opens and Mr. Stark appears, running his hands through his hair. “Alright, kid. How’s about we get some breakfast somewhere and then I drive you back to Queens? Can’t have Aunt Hottie worrying herself sick wondering if you’ve knocked some girl up.”</p><p>“Will you stop calling her that?” Peter scowls. “Also, I, uh, don’t really have anything to wear. I left my tux at school when I changed into the Spidey suit.”</p><p>“You mean your onesie? Okay, we can sort that out.”</p><p>“No Hello Kitty pants,” Peter says firmly.</p><p>“No Hello Kitty pants,” Mr. Stark agrees. He gestures for Peter to follow him into the walk-in closet. “Alright, come here. Let’s see if we can find you something.”</p><p>Mr. Stark’s closet is insane. It’s bigger than Peter’s bedroom back in Queens, with dark wood panelling and recessed lights illuminating the rows upon rows of suits, jackets, coats that look more expensive than Peter could ever imagine. There’s an ottoman in the centre of the room next to a glass-top closet island through which Peter could see displayed belts, ties, and cufflinks. </p><p>Mr. Stark opens up a drawer and starts rummaging through it, pulling out T-shirts and holding it up to inspect the size. He finally tosses Peter a red polo-shirt and says, “You can have that. It doesn’t fit me anymore.”</p><p>“Okay,” Peter says, holding up the shirt against himself.</p><p>Mr. Stark moves on to a different drawer. “I don’t think I have any jeans that’ll fit you though. I mean, we’re about the same height but I think my trunk is a bit more junky, you know? Here, try this on,” he says, handing Peter a pair of jeans. “Grab a belt if you need it.”</p><p>Mr. Stark looks at Peter expectantly. </p><p>Peter, holding the clothes he was given, just stares right back.</p><p>“Oh! You want me to-“ Mr. Stark points over his shoulder to his bedroom. “Geez, Pete. We slept together already. You’re shy about changing in front of me?” His smile is teasing but he grabs some clothes and leaves the closet anyway. </p><p>Peter rolls his eyes, but if he’s being honest, there’s something breathlessly exhilarating about all this back and forth. It feels like it’s teetering on the brink of something more than just friendly banter and venturing very close on the razor edge of flirting and something about it all just makes him want to give as good as he’s getting.</p><p>Having changed into his new clothes, Peter walks back to the bedroom. “You know, since we slept together and all. I should probably start calling you Tony, huh?”</p><p>“No one told you to call me Mr. Stark in the first place, but sure,” Mr. Stark says, pulling on a jacket.</p><p>Hmm, <em> Tony </em>. Peter rolls that word around in his head, liking the way it sounds. Tony. Tony and Peter. Peter and Tony. </p><p>“And you should also probably stop calling me kid,” Peter continues, pushing his luck.</p><p>“Fine, fine. What’s with all these rules anyway? Should we establish a safe word as well?”</p><p>“Nah, just a stoplight system is fine,” Peter quips.</p><p>Tony raises his eyebrow at that, clearly not expecting that Peter would be familiar with such concepts. </p><p>Peter smirks.</p><p>“Good to know,” Tony says with a grin. “Come on, Christian Grey, let’s get a move on. I’m starving.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you again for the comments on the previous chapter, you guys are the wind beneath my wings, the fuel in my engine and all that jazz. I'm really hoping to stick with this weekly schedule of posting, but these chapters are quite lengthy and juggling it with work is sometimes a struggle so i wanna apologize in advance if I end up dropping the ball on keeping the deadline moving forward. </p><p>I hope you like this chapter and my take on the Homecoming film. Next up, we're gonna tear apart Infinity War and make it the way I want it and there's nothing Feige can do about it. Thanks AO3 legal team! And as always, feel free to hit me up at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thanos has brought the war to Earth. Tony and Peter bring the fight to him. The imminent danger and almost certain death makes them confront some feelings.</p>
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  <em>It’s the darkness. The kind of endless, lightless void so interminable that it almost feels like it perceives you, with celestial eyes that look into your soul and find you lacking, in strength, in courage, and in cleverness.</em>
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  <em>It was a choice that was no choice at all. One life for millions. And so the Merchant took Death on his shoulders and carried it through the wormhole, away from his people, to vanquish their enemies. His one life for the life of many, a fair trade for the discerning merchant.</em>
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  <em>He was out there for a blink, maybe, or an eternity condensed in a blink, but he knows he’s been seen regardless, his presence an affront. A challenge. He knows the rain fire is coming, knows it as sure as he knows that they’re not strong enough to withstand it. So he tries and he fails, he fights and he loses, he keeps going, keeps going, yet in his dreams he still sees them dead and broken under the cruel, unblinking stars.</em>
</p><p>You could’ve saved us.</p><p>But you left me,<em> he thinks. He’s left all alone, to lose all alone with nothing but broken oaths and an outdated cell phone. Was he the only one who saw the eyes in the sky, felt the promise of retribution from a force that none on Earth have ever seen? Was he the only one who could see the future, one where they burned until they’re nothing but ash, dissolving in the wind?</em></p><p>Why didn’t you do more?</p><p>
  <em>If he could, he would. Couldn’t they see that? He went further than any of them were willing to go, did more than any of them were willing to defend. Would the ghostly sins of his past never cease to follow him in everything he does for him to earn such distrust? </em>
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  <em>It's the darkness that engulfs him when he sleeps and he sees nothing but their dead eyes. A green-tinged mass brought impossibly down. A broken bow held in slack, mangled hands. A splintered hammer and white, blinded eyes. A shattered skull at the base of a chasm. A shield cracked right down the middle. His mirror image, his brother, crippled and broken. Long, strawberry-blonde hair, matted with blood. Beautiful, brown eyes, weeping, pleading, begging to stay.</em>
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  <em>There’s ash in his hands.</em>
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  <em>Tony wakes in cold sweat.</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Tony is <em>furious</em>. He doesn't think he's ever been more angry. If it was literally <em>anyone</em> else but Peter stuck up there with him, it would have … well, it would still suck, obviously, but at least there would still be a part of him at peace, knowing that despite everything, at least Peter Parker is safe on Earth. Or he would’ve been after Tony’s done what he’s thrown himself into space for, once again.</p><p>(And yes, there was a part of him that for a while, rued the fact that the last time he would ever see Peter was right before his parachute deployed, looking resplendent in the new Iron Spider suit. That part of him had instantly honed in on the memory of the last time he had seen Peter’s face without his mask on, that sunny day in Manhattan over black coffee and croissants. That part of him had already prepared to hold that memory close all the way up to the end where it would be the last thing on his mind and the strength to carry him forward.)</p><p>But there Peter was, standing before him, looking as infuriatingly guileless as ever with his wide, unrepentant eyes, and Tony is seriously conflicted between absolute fury and breathless relief.</p><p>“You know, if you had just gone to college, you’d be at MIT, all the way at Cambridge instead of New York getting caught up in all of this shit.”</p><p>“Wha- what does college have to do with anything?!” Peter exclaims. “There are colleges in New York. I could’ve still been in town to get caught up in all of this shit.”</p><p>“Okay, so why didn’t you? Why defer, of all things? I finished undergrad at 17. You’re gonna be a 19-year-old freshman?”</p><p>Peter scowls. “Tony, can you make up your mind on what you wanna be mad at me about? Is it me being on this ship, me not going to college, or me being too old if I ever do?”</p><p>Okay so maybe Tony is deflecting. Maybe he just wants some kind of outlet to direct his bubbling emotions. But it’s a lot easier to get mad at something as relatively superficial as college options than the very real, very imminent danger they are heading towards. They are in <em>space</em>, for Christ’s sake.</p><p>“<em>If </em>you ever do?! You’re thinking of <em>not</em> going to college?! Does your Aunt know about this?”</p><p>Of all things, <em>that’s</em> what gets Peter to look guilty. “Well, Aunt May doesn’t really- It’s just gonna take time away from my Spider-man stuff. I just really think I should be focusing on honing my skills right now.”</p><p>“He’s right, you know,” Doctor Strange pipes up. “Who knows what I’d be capable of by now if I had gone into the mystic arts earlier in life instead of spending a decade in medschool. College isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”</p><p>Peter spreads his arms in the wizard’s direction like, <em>see?</em></p><p>Tony glares at Strange, waving his hands dismissively. “Can you not? The muggles are talking.”</p><p>Peter points an accusing finger at Tony. “You know, if it weren’t for me, <em>you’d </em>still be hiding from Squidward-“, he then points to Strange, “and <em>you’d</em> still have a bunch of needles sticking out of your face. So. You’re welcome.”</p><p>Tony snorts. “Like I wouldn’t have figured something out myself-”</p><p>Simultaneously, Strange says, “Please. I was biding my time-”</p><p>“- I was giving you something to do. It was a teachable moment.”</p><p>“-I would’ve broken free without either of your help.”</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes. Strange was really starting to get on his nerves and he’s starting to think they should’ve just left him to his acupuncture session. He turns to Peter. “Face it, kid. You screwed up. You shouldn’t even be here.”</p><p>Peter glowers. “I thought I told you not to call me ‘kid’.”</p><p>“And I thought I told you to <em>go home</em>!”</p><p>“As much as I’m enjoying this episode of Love Island,” Strange interrupts snidely, “do either of you have an actual plan to defeat Thanos? Because if not, I’m creating a portal out of here and leaving you to it.”</p><p>“Good. Portal up. Take him back to Earth,” Tony says, gesturing towards Peter.</p><p>“Oh, nice, <em>Mr. Stark</em>,” Peter says sarcastically.</p><p>“I’m not going back to Earth. Thanos’s army is there. I’m not taking the Time Stone anywhere near them.”</p><p>“So where are you going then?” Tony says exasperatedly.</p><p>“It doesn’t concern you. The less anyone knows the better. But if there’s a chance of defeating Thanos once and for all then I’m all ears.” Strange raises an eyebrow. “You’re the great Tony Stark. The Invincible Iron Man. Are you telling me you <em>don’t</em> have a great plan?”</p><p>“Not a survivable one,” Tony says grimly.</p><p>“I’m okay with that.”</p><p>“For <em>all</em> of us,” Tony iterates, avoiding making eye contact with Peter. See, this is why he didn’t want him to get involved in this.</p><p>“Hm, <em>less</em> okay with that,” Strange says.</p><p>Tony scowls. “Look, it’s just a last resort thing, okay? Hopefully it won’t come to that. We’re out here without backup. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for this.”</p><p>“Oh! So you admit that you <em>need</em> me here, then?” Peter pipes up, holding a hand up like he’s in class.</p><p>Tony pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Pete, can you <em>please </em>just-“</p><p>“Ugh, you guys are killing me,” Strange mutters, and with a swish of his cape, he levitates away from the bridge, leaving Tony and Peter alone.</p><p>Peter regards Tony with his arms crossed. “So what’s this ‘Great Big Plan’ of yours? Were you ever gonna tell me about it?”</p><p>Tony paces away so he doesn’t have to look at him. “It’s been kind of on a need-to-know basis.”</p><p>“Well, I kinda need to know now, don’t I?”</p><p>“Hmm, debatable.”</p><p>Peter follows and rounds to a stop in front of him. “Tony, come on!” he implores. “I can help! You’ve seen what I can do. You know what I’m capable of. I thought you’re past thinking I’m some helpless little kid.”</p><p>Tony sighs. “Pete, it’s not about that. You know it’s never about that.”</p><p>“Then what is it about?”</p><p>“I never planned on you being here when I face Thanos!” Tony says sharply. “The guy’s been haunting my dreams for the past six years, ever since the Battle of New York. Every waking moment of my life since then has been trying to figure out how to beat the guy. And sure, I was never naïve enough to think that there wouldn’t be casualties, was even prepared for it to be me. But I <em>never</em> wanted it to be you. <em>You’re not supposed to be here, Peter.</em>”</p><p>Peter gives him a shrewd look. “I know <em>that’s</em> a lie,” he says.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You may have hoped it’d never come to this. But I know there’s a part of you that expected this would happen. You wouldn’t have made me this suit otherwise. This thing is ridiculously intuitive for being used in space. The life support features and gravitational compensators … I didn’t even have to think about it, it just-” Peter snaps his fingers.</p><p>“It’s nano-tech. It’s what it does,” Tony mutters.</p><p>“Did you make anyone else anything like this?”</p><p>Tony doesn’t answer.</p><p>“Tony.”</p><p>“Okay fine! Of course I took precautions,” Tony admits. “Hello, have you met me? Of course I made preparations for the worst case scenario, it’s what I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m even <em>remotely</em> in the realm of glad that you’re out here. This is a one way trip.”</p><p>“That doesn’t answer why you had this made for me and not anyone else. It’s almost like you prepared this job specifically for me,” Peter says challengingly. “Why do I have this suit and not anyone else?”</p><p>“You <em>know</em> why,” Tony says seriously.</p><p>Peter searches his eyes and Tony wants to look away from his penetrating gaze. Peter has always had a way of getting under his skin. And worse, Tony has always found himself letting him.</p><p><em>He knows,</em> Tony thinks. <em>He </em>must<em> know by now.</em></p><p>“So what is it then?” Peter finally says. “The big contingency plan?”</p><p>Sighing heavily, Tony plucks the nano-suit housing from his chest and holds it out to Peter. “The latest arc reactor. A miniaturized bomb basically, depending on how much charge is left.”</p><p>Tony can see the puzzles pieces falling into place in Peter’s brain. “But … it’s capable of deploying remotely, right?” Peter says slowly. “Like the old Mark 42?”</p><p>“Not if you want maximum efficiency. Not the way I’m planning to use it, if it comes to that. I can’t risk half-assing this.”</p><p>A maelstrom of emotions flit across Peter’s face. Incredulity, defiance, anger. Tony braces himself for whichever one or combination of those the young man will hit him with.</p><p>But through all that Peter is quiet, and his voice is steady and calm when he finally says, “then we’ll find another way. I’m gonna make sure you don’t use it, even if it does come to that.”</p><p>Tony snorts disbelievingly. “How?”</p><p>“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Tony, but I’m real sticky. As long as I stick by you and stay within blast range, you’re not gonna pull the trigger.” Peter sounds incredibly confident about it.</p><p>See, Peter <em>does </em>know. He knows that there’s absolutely no way Tony would ever allow the explosive to reach Peter in the event that he would have to use it. Tony would do his damnedest to make sure Peter is out of range before he blasts himself and Thanos to kingdom come. He knows that Tony would do anything to protect the one thing he can’t live without, and that’s Peter himself.</p><p>Tony doesn’t know how to feel about Peter using this knowledge against him though. “Yeah, you sure about that?” he bluffs, though it sounds weak even to his own ears. “How do you know I won’t just take out the both of us along with Thanos?”</p><p>Peter shrugs. “Then I won’t have to live without you. Win-win for me.”</p><p>Tony is stunned. He’s known the things he would do for Peter, the lengths he would go to keep him safe and alive. When Tony loves, he does it like he does everything else: absolutely, throwing all of himself into it, with little to no regard for his own well-being. When he loves, it is outright and all-consuming and painful and it’s not a feeling he’d wish on another person, least of all Peter. He knows Peter feels … something for him, affection, attraction, maybe. He never thought it’d be <em>that</em>.</p><p>Peter sighs. “Look, Tony. I know you said I couldn’t have possibly thought this through. Well, I did. I did think this through. And what I thought was that there’s absolutely <em>no way</em> I’m letting you face all this alone. Whatever you might think about my capabilities, it’s better than nothing. I want to be with you. Let me do this.”</p><p>In another life, in another story, Peter would say those last two sentences under less dire circumstances. Maybe over dinner, back on Earth, with no concerns about murderous aliens, just Tony and Peter, being with each other. But in this life, they’re Iron Man and Spider-man, with all the powers and responsibilities that come with it. There’s nothing Tony wants more than to protect his boy, to not drag him into his cursed existence. <em>Don’t follow me into the dark, Pete</em>.</p><p>“We’re not gonna make it,” Tony says helplessly.</p><p>Peter’s gaze is firm and steady. “But at least we’ll do that together.”</p><p>Tony is quiet at that. <em>We’ll lose. We’ll do that together too</em>.</p><p>“I don’t have any regrets, Tony,” Peter says. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”</p><p>Tony hates to admit it, but deep down he’s glad Peter’s there too, with him, at the end of all things.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony’s gratefulness for Peter’s presence with him increases exponentially once they’re joined by the so-called Starlord and his crew. Are the extra hands on deck really worth it if those hands could barely find their own ass even if they had a map? Two minutes with the three of them and Tony’s already looking for a camera to look exasperatedly into like he’s in The Office.</p><p>Tony had just had the thought that at least he and Peter had Strange to back them up, someone somewhat sane. Then the wizard had to go and have a glitch in the matrix, telling them that he’s fast forwarded to the end of this movie already and spoiled himself the ending. Over 14 million different ones, apparently.</p><p>“How many did we win?” Tony asks, already knowing that he won’t like the answer.</p><p>Strange looks at him grimly. “For the universe? Two. For you? One.”</p><p>Tony frowns.</p><p>“What the hell does that mean?” Peter demands.</p><p>“It means our odds aren’t great,” Tony answers for the wizard. “Mine slightly less than that. But what difference does point zero zero zero zero of a percent make, amirite?”</p><p>It’s not like it’s unexpected, really. His own estimations of his survival weren’t far off either. He’s known this, intellectually. It shouldn’t be a big deal.</p><p>And yet, standing there in the dusty ruins of a long-dead civilization, on a planet millions of miles away from Earth, he’s still thinking about things he still wants to do, about things that could’ve been. A life without danger, a future where he gets to wake up to crinkled sheets and brown eyes after staying up talking all night or eating pizza while working together in the lab, moving in casual synchrony. All the things he wants to say but doesn’t know how to, the unspoken words behind the quiet longing and gifts of invention. He should’ve known all along that he'd never get any of those things, but there it is apparently, that quiescent sliver of hope burning quietly all this time only to die right at this moment.</p><p>Peter glares at him. “Remember what we talked about.”</p><p>“I know. I know. Don’t worry about it,” Tony says with a reassuring smile, not wanting to get back into all that in front Strange, Starlord, and his crew. “It’ll be fine, Pete. I promise.”</p><p>He can tell from the look on Peter’s face that he doesn’t believe him.</p><p>--</p><p>Thanos is … more terrifying than Peter could’ve imagined.</p><p>The tingle of his heightened senses went completely haywire the second Thanos had stepped out of that portal, alarmed by the thrum of power emanating from the four glimmering stones on his gauntlet.</p><p>It was chaos. The six of them, all charging at him with relentless blows, could barely hold him back. Even when an actual spaceship came out of nowhere to crash into him, it barely slowed him down, the blue-skinned newcomer piloting it swatted away like a fly.</p><p>Then Thanos hurled an honest-to-God <em>moon</em> towards them and the world exploded.</p><p>Peter reacted on instinct, whipping his webs around, vaulting through the debris, swooping up and saving as many of their team as he could, but Tony … <em>where’s Tony? </em></p><p>Peter swings around frantically, calling his name, and through the veil of dust he sees him, Iron Man facing off with the Mad Titan, the armour transforming with every blow, adapting, reacting to every parry, the power and grace of it seemingly, astonishingly gaining the upper hand for a minute.</p><p>And then Thanos rips off Tony’s helmet, snaps the dagger Tony had formed to attack him with, and sank it deep into the man’s stomach, the force of it making him gasp as he stutters backwards.</p><p>The world stops. Sound itself seems to fall away and Peter can see nothing but the shocked, pained look on Tony’s face.</p><p>“No! Tony!” Peter gasps, anguished. He leaps forward, swinging as fast as he could, racing towards them. He’s so far away. He sees Thanos lift his gauntlet enclosed in a fist, pointing them straight at Tony, the stones glowing with cruel menace. “No!”</p><p>A final swing of his webs and Peter slams his entire body weight into Thanos, throwing him off balance, grappling at the gauntlet, seeking to disarm him. A large, unforgiving hand grips him by the back of his neck and tosses him viciously. The wind gets utterly knocked out of him as Peter crashes hard into a pile of debris, feeling something crack.</p><p>Dazed, Peter retracts his mask and catches Tony’s eyes. They’re sad and pleading and Peter’s hand twitches, wanting to reach out, wanting to comfort him, wanting to say <em>it’s okay, do it, it’s okay</em>. And because Tony always knows him so well, he gets it, he understands. His face is twisted in pain and sorrow and wordless apologies, but he taps a series of patterns on the armour’s reactor anyway, letting it glow, brighter and brighter and ever brighter.</p><p>It’s like Tony’s heart is glowing, casting him in an ethereal radiance that matches the brightness of his spirit, selfless and tragic. Peter thinks it won’t be the worst way to go, to be burned in the blaze of Tony’s holy fire, the man’s light being the last thing he sees.</p><p>But Thanos moves quick. He activates the purple stone on his gauntlet and all the energy’s pressure built up in the arc reactor’s imminent explosion is siphoned into it, the light leaving Tony’s chest like his very soul is being sucked out.</p><p><em>No</em>, Peter thinks weakly, helplessly. They were all going to die, and the one comfort in that, the fact that they would be taking Thanos with them, is quickly turning to ash in the palm of that gauntlet.</p><p>A blood-curdling scream and the blue-skinned alien from before leaps onto Thanos, swinging a set of dual swords. Such a rage-fuelled sound would have alerted Thanos of the attack, but the effort it was taking to contain the expanding power of the exploding arc reactor proved to be too much of a distraction and the blades found their mark.</p><p>Two quick swipes, lightning-swift, tearing into Thanos’s spine send him to his knees with a furious roar. His attacker answers that roar in kind and with a savage swing of her swords, cleanly separates his head from his body. The gauntlet left on Thanos’s headless body shudders, the energy absorbed in the stone destabilizing in the absence of a will restraining it.</p><p>It explodes.</p><p>Before Peter could even react and accept that it was over, before his eyes could even find Tony’s, wanting his face to be the last thing he sees, a thwip of a cape rushes past and Doctor Strange flies to a stop before them. Quick hand motions conjure a golden cage around the blast but the colossal force of it breaks through and everything goes dark.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>A few weeks ago</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Summer is drawing to a close in New York and walking leisurely on street level, while not as adrenaline-drenched as it is to swing a hundred feet in the air, is still exhilarating in its own right if one is walking around with Tony Stark. It’s late morning and the sun rays filter through the trees and the shine of it brings out the honey caramel browns in Tony’s hair.</p><p>Peter is freshly eighteen for all of twenty-four hours and he’s turned down several ostentatious gifts from Tony in favour of a whole day with him. There’s caffeine in their veins, smiles on their faces, and nowhere in particular they need to be. It’s nice to just walk around, enjoying the mild weather.</p><p>Tony offhandedly mentions needing a new jacket and walks into a John Varvatos store, Peter trailing after him. Somehow it ends up with Tony chasing him around with a pile of clothes in his arms, trying to get him to at least try on the jeans he picked out.</p><p>Peter usually isn’t one to turn down gifts. He’d be more than happy to let Tony buy him whatever the hell he wants – who doesn’t like free stuff? But couldn’t he at least get a bit of a say over what it is?</p><p>“I like it,” Tony declares, like his word is law. The jeans Peter has tried on fit him like his Spider-man glove, moulding to every curve of his anatomy.</p><p>“Of course you do,” Peter grumbles, turning around and scrutinizing himself in the dressing room mirrors. The T-shirt isn’t much better. The thin sleeves cling to his biceps in a way that makes you absolutely sure that Peter actually has them. “You know, no one’s gonna send you a fruit basket for these.”</p><p>“The image of you in clothes that actually fit is reward enough, young buck.”</p><p>Tony would’ve bought Peter the whole store if he didn’t think it would scare him off. Peter looks good in those clothes, almost sinfully so, and from the small smile Tony catches gracing Peter’s face when he thinks the man isn’t looking, he knows it too. Peter has a gymnast’s body, or a dancer’s, defined with musculature in all the right places while still looking proportionate, lithe, and strong. It’s practically illegal to hide a body like that under such ill-fitting hand-me-downs. He’s doing the world a favour, really.</p><p>Peter is all wide grins and bouncy steps when they walk out the store with a few bags each, mostly containing wares for Peter. It’s like a scene straight of a movie, where the uplifting music swells and the faces in the crowd fades away and nothing else is in focus but the way Peter wanders down the street, all wonder and grace, looking back at Tony with a smile that just hits him right there, hook, line, and sinker. Peter moves away and Tony follows, the way he realizes he always would, wherever he goes.</p><p>Lunch is a casual affair at a Vietnamese place Peter picks out and as Tony fondly watches the younger man scarf down his second banh mi of the day while talking a mile a minute about some movie he watched the other day, he thinks about how nice this is. It’s like they’re normal people, on a normal day out in the city, doing normal things. It’s nice.</p><p>Late afternoon finds them roaring up route 97 in a bright blue Aston Martin Vanquish convertible with the top down. Peter is in the passenger seat, the wind whipping through his hair, a pair of dark wayfarers perched on his nose, whooping in unrestrained excitement as Tony rips the sportscar down the open road. His joy is infectious and Tony has no control over the grin that’s taking over his face. He laughs along with Peter’s squeals of delight whenever he feels the pull of the speeding car’s torque, hugging the road’s curves.</p><p>The Delaware River glitters below them as they sit on the hood of the car parked on a quiet overlook, munching on strawberries they had bought for the occasion.</p><p>“I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Peter sighs into the wind.</p><p>Tony thinks this is nothing to what he can do if given half the chance. He has millions of ideas and billions of dollars and he would lay it all down and present it all to Peter to keep him smiling like that.</p><p>But then again, there’s something to be said about the way the setting sun’s golden glow is reflected on Peter’s face, bringing out the soft freckles splashed across his nose. His lips are stained red from the strawberries and Tony has never wanted to know the taste of something more. Is that a thought that he should be having? Is it something that he’d be allowed to have?</p><p>Tony looks at Peter and he knows that there’s nothing in the world he wants more than more of this. There’s time, right? They have time.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>Present day</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tony!</em>
</p><p>There’s a persistent ringing in Tony’s ear. There’s dust in his throat, grit in his eyes, and a sharp pain in his gut.</p><p>
  <em>Tony, please!</em>
</p><p><em>Hang on, just give me five more minutes, baby, </em>Tony thinks sluggishly. God, his head is heavy. His eyelids flutter. Trying to open them is like prying open metal panelling that’s been welded shut. The world is out of focus, but the first thing that sharpens in his sight is a pair of dark brown eyes, wide with worry, watery with grief. No, that won’t do at all. He doesn’t like seeing those eyes so sad. What can he do? What can he-</p><p>“Tony, oh thank God,” Peter sobs, and then there’s arms around him, a weight on his chest, and Peter’s ragged breathing on his neck.</p><p>Tony hugs him back automatically. His current whereabouts and situation come back to him in a rush and he holds Peter closer against him.</p><p>They’re alive. They’re alive and Thanos is … is he dead?</p><p>“Pete…” Tony rasps, the word instantly devolving into a coughing fit as it aggravates the dust in his lungs.</p><p>Peter pulls away, looking into his eyes. “We won, Tony. We did it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Thanos is dead,” Peter says, like he can barely believe it himself.</p><p>Tony frowns. “The explosion…”</p><p>“Well, you almost killed us all with your ill-advised bomb,” Doctor Strange says matter-of-factly. “I managed to direct most of the blast waves out through a portal so, you’re welcome. Nebula’s the one who killed Thanos though, so you might want to thank her too.” He gestures to the blue-skinned cyborg sitting pensively on a rock nearby.</p><p>Nebula looks up, her gaze is cold and empty. “Thanos killed my sister. He had to pay for that.”</p><p>“No complaints here,” Strange mutters. He’s pacing around, waving his hands, sparks of gold emitting from the complicated gestures of his fingers. He looks like he’s scanning the air for something.</p><p>Tony struggles to sit up and Peter’s hands reach out as a steadying hold on his arm and back. He winces as the movement jostles the wound on his stomach, but pressing a hand to it, he feels it covered by a hard, striated substance.</p><p>“You were bleeding a lot, so I webbed it up,” Peter admits. “I didn’t know what else to do.”</p><p>Tony cups Peter’s face, touching their foreheads together. “Clever boy,” Tony says, tilting his mouth in a small smile. “You saved my life, Pete.”</p><p>“Aren’t you glad I tagged along?”</p><p>Tony lets out a wry huff. “Ask me again when we’re back on Earth.” He looks around. “Is everyone else alive?” He follows Peter’s eyes to Starlord and his crew standing around a few paces away. Starlord seems to be arguing with his big grey companion while the other one, the lady with the big bug eyes, looks anxiously between them. “What’s up with them?” he asks.</p><p>Peter shrugs. “Haven’t asked. They weren’t really my biggest concern a minute ago.”</p><p>A few metres away, Doctor Strange finds the remains of the gauntlet in the settling dust, examining it impassively for a moment before opening a portal with quick movements of his hands. Beyond it, Tony can see the pitch black maw of empty space.</p><p>“Hey, whoa, where are you going?” Tony calls out.</p><p>“I’m returning the stones to the universe. Don’t worry, they’ll be safe, scattered down to its atoms.”</p><p>Tony stares at him. "Alright, a lot to unpack there. But you wanna drop us off at Earth first, there, buddy?"</p><p>"Earth is still infested with Thanos's children. I'm not taking the stones anywhere near it. I don’t have time for this."</p><p>"At least open it up, you don't have to-" Tony begins but Doctor Strange had already stepped through the portal and closed it behind him. "Fuck!" </p><p>"You sure that guy's not about to become the next Thanos?" Starlord asks with a raised brow, cocking his head towards the space where the portal had fizzled out of existence.</p><p>"Not entirely, but it seems unlikely," Tony says irritably. "Hey, you got a ship, right?"</p><p>Starlord holds up a hand. "Nope. Can't. We're going to Vormir." Behind him, Bug Lady and Big Grey Dude exchange uneasy looks.</p><p>"So make a pit stop!"</p><p>"Earth is on the other end of the galaxy right now. I'm not wasting any more time."</p><p>"Dude, you're gonna leave us here?" Peter says incredulously.</p><p>"Nebula's got a ship!" Starlord says, pointing at the blue cyborg.</p><p>"Gamora is dead," Nebula says flatly.</p><p>Starlord gets all up in her face. "She's dead when I say she is dead."</p><p>Big Grey Dude pipes up. "I don't think that's how it works, Quill."</p><p>Starlord scowls at him. "Whatever. Are you guys or coming or not?" He walks off to his ship, and after a few moments, his two companions follow close behind.</p><p>"You're really gonna strand us here to chase after your dead girlfriend?" Tony calls out to him.</p><p>At that, Starlord throws up a middle finger over his shoulder but keeps walking.</p><p>"Asshole," Tony mutters.</p><p>"I'll take you to Terra," Nebula says. Her stare is empty and cold and she says it like she's condemning them to a death sentence so Tony’s a bit apprehensive about her offer. </p><p>"Yeah? You'd do that?" Tony asks warily. “Why?”</p><p>“Thanos is dead. My work is done. I have nothing better to do.” Nebula stands up and begins walking towards her ship without another word.</p><p>Tony and Peter exchange worried looks but they both seem to be thinking the same thing. It’s better than to be stranded on an unfamiliar planet. Besides, she couldn’t be that bad, right? Enemy of my enemy and all that?</p><p>Peter helps Tony stand and they follow Nebula to her ship. It’s the one that she had piloted to crash into Thanos and it’s somehow still standing upright despite having collided into several ruined structures. It’s not a large ship. It looked more like a fighter, only slightly bigger than a Quinjet, with mounted shooter weapons atop fin-shaped wings, one on each side.</p><p>Nebula disappears into the ship, Tony and Peter following behind her when they hear a voice calling out.</p><p>“Wait! Thor’s friends!” It’s Bug Lady running up to them, holding out what looks like a ratty rucksack. Tony and Peter pause, turning around to face her. “Here, take this.”</p><p>Tony eyes it hesitantly. “What is it?”</p><p>“It’s a splice for your stab wound. It’ll help close it quicker. And some Yaro root for your trip. You might want to wait until it’s ripe, though.” She pauses. “Quill feels bad for not taking you home.”</p><p>Tony snorts. “I’m sure he is. You don’t have to cover for him, sweetheart. It’s fine.”</p><p>“No, he is!” she says earnestly. “I know. I touched him.”</p><p>Tony and Peter exchange bewildered looks.</p><p>“But Gamora is very important to him,” she continues. “He loves her and would do anything for her. I think you understand.” She takes Tony’s hand as she presses the rucksack over to him, smiling knowingly. “See, you do. I hope you reach your home planet safely.” And with that she turns and goes back to Starlord’s ship.</p><p>“That was weird,” Peter comments.</p><p>“Yeah, well, at least there weren’t any eggs put in unwelcome places. As far as I know anyway.”</p><p>“Oh shut up, I panicked.”</p><p>Nebula is already firing up the thrusters when they enter the ship. It’s not made for more than a single pilot so there aren’t any seats exactly. But there are nooks against the walls they can brace themselves on.</p><p>Then Tony remembers something. “Didn’t you crash land here? Does this thing even still work?”</p><p>“I suppose we’ll see,” Nebula says, and with a violent shudder of the ship’s hull, they lift off and fly out of the atmosphere.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And thus ends my loyalty to the MCU. Fun fact: the reason I named this fic ‘The Way It Goes’ is because when it comes to canon, this is the way it goes in my head lol. I told you this is my totally self-indulgent fix-it fic. Everything moving forward from now is my own plot though and not gonna lie, I’m pretty nervous. Excited, but nervous. Let me know what you guys think and I hope you’ll enjoy what comes next. This thing will finally earn its explicit rating. </p><p>Sorry about the slight delay with this chapter btw. I’m also working on filling in the daily Starker prompts for October on tumblr. It’s not going awesome, I gotta be honest lol. I already skipped like 5 days of it. But it’s been good exercise on keeping the writing muscles moving.<br/>Anyways. As always, feel free to hit me up at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p><p>I live on y’alls feedback. Talk to meeee.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter and Tony’s long trip home to Earth where their relationship becomes physical.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: brief description of body violence inflicted on Nebula</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>“Does that hurt when you do that?” Peter asks, watching Nebula poke around through a gash in her forearm with a strange-looking screwdriver. Peering closer, he sees that in place of where muscles, bone, and nerve should be, she has steel endoskeleton connected to what looks like hydraulic tendons. It’s looks really cool.</p>
<p>“Not anymore,” Nebula answers without looking up.</p>
<p>“What happened?” Peter asks hesitantly.</p>
<p>“My father left me trapped in a laser thorn energy net for my failures on the Cloud Tombs of Praxius,” Nebula answers matter-of-factly. She turns to Peter. “Do you have a father?”</p>
<p>“Not anymore.”</p>
<p>“That’s good.” She sounds uncharacteristically sincere about it.</p>
<p>“Not always. Some fathers are good.”</p>
<p>Nebula looks nonplussed. “What’s a good father like?”</p>
<p>Peter thinks of Richard Parker at first, but he doesn’t have many memories of him and the ones he does, he’s not sure are real memories or just something he made up in his mind. He was so young when his parents left home to catch their flight and never came back.</p>
<p>“Good fathers are caretakers,” Peter says, thinking of Uncle Ben instead. When Nebula just looks up at him blankly, he continues, “Supportive. Protective. Gives you advice from his life experience to prepare you for the world. That kind of stuff.”</p>
<p>Nebula seems to think about it. “<em>Without</em> torture?”</p>
<p>“Without torture.”</p>
<p>“Even if it’s to increase your proficiency?”</p>
<p>“There are a lot better ways to make you more proficient at stuff”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Like relentless condescension and withholding affection. Worked like a charm on me.” Tony offers his input as he comes over to them. “Pete, would you get down from there? The gravitational field in this ship is wack as it is. I don’t need you disorienting me by sitting on the ceiling.”</p>
<p>“Nope. Shan’t. Also Tony, we’re supposed to be talking about <em>good </em>fathers.”</p>
<p>“You had a terrible father too?” Nebula asks Tony.</p>
<p>“Sure. Not like, genocide-terrible. But pretty terrible.” Tony tilts his head. “Although, on second thought, considering the body count from all his weapons dealing… But at least he didn’t physically torture me, so… A+ parenting for Howard Stark.” He holds up a piece of metal panelling he’s been working on for the past few hours to get into just the right size and shape. “Alright, Neytiri. Wanna try this one on for size?”</p>
<p>“It’s ‘Nebula’.”</p>
<p>“It’s…,” Tony chuckles. “Never mind, it’s not even a good movie anyway.”</p>
<p>“I liked that movie,” Peter comments.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, you also think Ocean’s Eleven is peak cinema so I’m still withholding your auteur card.” Tony gently moves Nebula’s head into position with his fingers. “I’m gonna slot it into place first and see how it fits, okay?” he tells her. “Then if you’re happy with it, not too uncomfortable, we can start welding it in.” He holds up the metal piece and carefully places it over the exposed part of the cyborg’s head. “Front end in… and … back. How’s it feel?”</p>
<p>Nebula thinks about it. “Painless,” she finally says.</p>
<p>“That’s a good sign,” Tony says encouragingly. However, when he moved to take it out, she flinches a little at the scratch against her scalp. Tony frowns. “Hey, you still have feeling around here?” He traces the edges of the gash lightly with his finger.</p>
<p>“Just on the outside.”</p>
<p>“Well there’s no way I’m welding it if you’re gonna feel it.”</p>
<p>“It won’t hurt much. I’ll be quiet,” Nebula assures him.</p>
<p>“It worries me that I’m pretty sure you speak from experience but I’m still not doing it.”</p>
<p>Nebula pouts a frustrated huff.</p>
<p>“Maybe you can connect it to something inside,” Peter suggests. “There’s probably less nociceptors in there than on the surface of the scalp.”</p>
<p>“Are you suggesting I attach this to her <em>brain</em>? Just because the brain doesn’t have any pain receptors doesn’t mean I should be welding stuff to it.”</p>
<p>“Not her brain. Her … skull? Cranium?”</p>
<p>“There’s pain receptors in bone,” Tony points out.</p>
<p>“In the <em>organic </em>bone. And that’s more on the periosteum. Here, let me see,” Peter flips easily down onto the floor and sits next to Nebula. He shoots a web between his fingers, layering it over itself until he has a somewhat rigid string about the length of his index finger. He touches the end of the web strand to Nebula’s scalp and sends a small electric charge through it.</p>
<p>She jumps, looking surprised.</p>
<p>Peter grins, pleased.</p>
<p>“Oh good, we’re back to torture,” Tony says dryly.</p>
<p>“It’s just a little jolt,” Peter says. He turns to Nebula. “That didn’t hurt, right?”</p>
<p>“It was just ... unexpected. And unpleasant,” Nebula admits. Then to Tony she says, “But it isn’t painful. Far from it.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, yes, very reassuring,” Tony grumbles, but he lets Peter take the reins anyway.</p>
<p>Peter probes carefully through the gash on the side of Nebula’s head, taking note of which parts are innervated with pain receptors and which parts don’t evoke any kind of reaction.</p>
<p>“Alright, see here, Tony?” Peter says, moving to the side to allow the other man to peer closer. “These parts are bone, but these biomechatronic connections right here? They’re some kind of metal or alloy, and it doesn’t conduct heat either, I checked. So it won’t damage the surrounding tissue and you can probably make the fusion there.”</p>
<p>“And how do you suggest I access it when the gap is covered?”</p>
<p>“Do it in two parts. Cut the covering in two, weld the part closest to it through the part that’s still uncovered, then connect the other part to it externally.”</p>
<p>Tony hums, impressed. “Alright. That’s not half-bad. But if the main connection is internal then we gotta make sure the seam is perfect. I’m gonna need an electromagnet.” To Nebula, he asks, “You good with that?”</p>
<p>Nebula looks surprised at being asked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”</p>
<p>“It is <em>your</em> noggin,” Tony points out.</p>
<p>“You require … consent?” Nebula says the word like it’s something gross she just stepped on. When Tony nods she says, “then I give it. It’s fine.”</p>
<p>Tony and Peter make the necessary adjustments for the procedure, working together and trading suggestions as they go. When it’s time to attach the metal plate onto Nebula’s head, Tony makes sure to talk her through it, letting her know what he’s going to do before he does it. He works quickly but he’s very gentle with it, cracking jokes to try and ease the visible lines of tension in her shoulders and back. She makes no complaints throughout the procedure, but her apprehension is clear.</p>
<p>“You’re done?” Nebula asks when Tony finally steps away. She rubs the tips of her fingers around the new plate on her head, feeling around the seams. “It doesn’t hurt.” She sounds a little confused at that.</p>
<p>“Well, I should hope not,” Tony says, tidying up the tools and leftover metal scraps off the floor.</p>
<p>Peter sees the look Nebula gives Tony when the man’s not looking. It’s an odd mixture of perplexity and something like begrudging respect. He doesn’t think Tony notices, but if Peter had any misgivings about hitching a ride through the perilous expanse of space with a deadly alien assassin before, it’s pretty much gone now with how Tony has utterly won over their companion.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Space is cold. It’s cold and apparently an interior climate control system isn’t one of their little ship’s amenities. Nebula seems perfectly unbothered, of course. Peter doesn’t know if she’s been trained not to feel it or if she can’t actually feel any of it what with all of her … upgrades. He and Tony are human, though, and they are <em>freezing</em>.</p>
<p>Nebula and Tony spent the first few days of their flight going over the ship’s machinery, making sure it’ll hold up on the long trip to Earth. Peter tries his best to keep up but he only gets every other word in, though he <em>thinks</em> he kinda gets the overall gist of it.</p>
<p>Apparently, being a fighter pod, their ship isn’t up for making the space jumps that would speed up their trip to a fraction of their current ETA. At least not without sustaining further damage to the fuel cells. Nebula had already burnt through the cartridges on her hasty way to Titan, brash and semi-suicidal as she was.</p>
<p>At one point during these discussions, Tony suggested rerouting the energy exhaust back into the thrusters through the closed filtration system adjacent to the ship’s ventilation system, essentially increasing the efficiency of their fuel usage by about 30% and heating up the ship’s interior so it won’t feel like a literal icebox.</p>
<p>“I mean, sure, there’s a serious leakage risk and if something happens we could end up breathing in toxic air. But I’m sure we can pick up any sign of it before it becomes lethal and deal with it then,” Tony had said with a shrug.</p>
<p>At that, Nebula had stared at him with her usual inscrutable expression for several long seconds before saying curtly, “You’re right. Let’s do that.”</p>
<p>As an intergalactic assassin, Nebula is familiar with spacecrafts, though she doesn’t have the applied engineering knowledge to work through the more finicky, unexpected problems. But with her help, Tony had quickly picked up everything he needed to know about space travel, how this particular spaceship worked, and he’s creating solutions and making adjustments here and there. Peter suddenly sees the man in that cave who created a miniaturized arc reactor and a prototype Iron Man suit with nothing but a box of scraps and his incredible, superhuman brain.</p>
<p>It’s still pretty damn cold though.</p>
<p>Peter and Tony stay in their suits most of the time. Underneath it, Peter only has his spandex suit on while Tony has his running gear. There’s a heating system built into their suits but it would last barely three days if they had it running nonstop and still keep the suits combat ready, you know, just in case. Tony had Nebula dismantle a few of the ship’s guns and is now trying to repurpose the energy cores into something that could power up their suits without giving them radiation poisoning. Peter is helping, sort of, making suggestions here and there, working his more slender fingers into whatever little nooks that Tony can’t reach.</p>
<p>There’s no semblance of time, of night and day, on the ship, but it always seems to be colder when they retire to sleep. Peter unearthed a ratty-looking blanket made of some kind of thick fur – he doesn’t really want to think about what kind of alien the thing is made out of – under a lumpy cot near the back of the ship. The sleeping area, if one could call it that, was really just a space beneath some compartments that housed various tools and weaponry. Nebula never uses it, preferring to sit quietly in the pilot seat, rested still in what Peter assumes is her version of sleep. Tony barely sleeps, continuing to tinker on the energy cores when Peter can’t keep his eyes open any longer and crawls into his little hole for an exhausted, fitful sleep.</p>
<p>Peter curls up into a ball, uncomfortable in his Iron Spider suit, exhaling puffs of breath and creating a little pocket of warm air under the blanket. He still shivers like crazy, wishing he weren’t so skinny, wishing he had a more of a protective, insulating layer of fat around his body.</p>
<p>A weight falls on his shoulder and Peter peers over the edge of the blanket to see Tony kneeling over him with a tired smile.</p>
<p>“Hey, squirt. Can I join you? I think I’m one loose screw away from collapsing at the Blue Meanie’s feet.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure.” Peter nods, scooching over so his back is flush to the wall, making space for Tony to climb in under the blanket. The metallic surfaces of their suits clank together unpleasantly and Tony taps the housing to retract it, shivering a little as the cold air hits through his cotton jacket.</p>
<p>“It’s kinda bulky,” he says apologetically.</p>
<p>“That’s okay,” Peter says. “It’s probably more comfortable that way. Is it okay if I undo mine too?”</p>
<p>“By all means.”</p>
<p>Peter’s suit retracts and he’s left in the spandex Spidey suit, which, while much more comfortable to lie down in, is much thinner, and he’s not wearing anything  but some thin boxers underneath it. The presence of another warm body curled close next to him helps though.</p>
<p>“Jesus Pete, you’re shaking,” Tony says, rubbing a hand around Peter’s shoulders. “Here, put on my jacket.” He unzips the jacket and makes to take it off, leaving him in just a thin undershirt.</p>
<p>“You know, we’d warm up a lot better if there’s, like, skin-to-skin contact,” Peter says nonchalantly. “You know, like with premature babies.”</p>
<p>Tony snorts. “Are you the premature baby in this situation?”</p>
<p>“I am smaller. I’m the one at higher risk for hypothermia in this situation,” Peter says. “You wouldn’t let me freeze to death, would you, Tony?” Peter looks up at him, almost going cross-eyed with how close their faces are already.  It’s dark but Peter can still pick up the individual delicate hairs lining Tony’s lower lash line, the way the older man looks back at him thoughtfully, gently.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Tony says finally. He wriggles under the blanket to take off his jacket and undershirt.</p>
<p>Peter taps the spider symbol on his chest, feeling the fabric loosen around him before slipping it off completely. “I think the pants should come off too,” he says. “It’ll work best that way.”</p>
<p>Surprisingly, inconceivably, Tony does as he says.</p>
<p>Tony pulls Peter close until they’re chest to chest, Peter’s nose buried in the crook of Tony’s neck, feeling the fluttering pulse of his carotid artery beneath it. Instinctively, Peter curls a leg around Tony’s thigh.</p>
<p>It’s warm, so warm. The sliding touch of their bare skin together is such a sweet relief, feeding each other the soothing heat. Peter burrows into it, wanting to be wrapped more tightly around the other man’s warm embrace.</p>
<p>“Better?” Tony murmurs into his hair.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Peter whispers, breath fanning across Tony’s bare clavicle. Would it be wrong to press his mouth there? For being stuck in a spaceship without access to running water, Tony smells unbearably delicious. It’s sharp and masculine and Peter inhales it deep, letting it permeate into him, heat coursing through his body until it settles deep in his gut. Peter feels himself grow hard.</p>
<p>Tangled as close as they are this way, with Peter’s leg thrown over Tony’s thick thigh, there’s no mistaking the swelling flesh there pressed between them through their boxers. Peter shifts to relieve the pressure, but then his own thigh finds Tony just as hard against him and his ability to think about anything else gets sucked out of the spaceship and into the vacuum of space.</p>
<p>Peter lets out a small sound without meaning to, pressing his lips to the base of Tony’s throat, feeling the other man swallow. Peter kisses him there, gripping him tighter as he rocks his hips just a bit, just a little so that there’s a lovely bit of friction against where he’s aching and hard against the other man.</p>
<p>“Peter...,” Tony breathes.</p>
<p>Peter doesn’t stop moving. He closes his eyes, doesn’t want to break whatever spell that’s holding them like this, doesn’t want to say anything that’ll ruin this perfect bubble they’ve found themselves in. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe if he opens his eyes the bubble will burst and Tony will push him away.</p>
<p>“Peter,” Tony says again, sounding a lot more strained this time.</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“What are we doing?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. It feels good.” Peter presses his leg harder between Tony’s thighs, feeling the evidence of the other man’s arousal. “You’re into it too.”</p>
<p>“Heh, kinda hard not to be,” Tony chuckles, sounding a little breathless himself. “Get it?”</p>
<p>Peter grumbles at the terrible joke, though it comes out more like a whine with how desperately turned on he feels. Tony nips at Peter’s bare shoulder and Peter moans against his neck, their hips moving together in a delicious grind.</p>
<p>Tony turns his head to nuzzle against the hinge of Peter’s jaw. “Peter, can I …” Tony whispers, voice husky.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Peter breathes. “Please.”</p>
<p>Tony’s lips find his and the first sublime touch of it is like all the pieces of the universe falling into place. Like everything that’s happened, all the heavenly bodies coming into alignment just to witness their lips meeting together like this.</p>
<p>Tony kisses him with a gentle confidence, his plush lips are a soft pressure nibbling against Peter’s own. Tenderly, irresistibly, he coaxes Peter’s lips to part and slips his tongue in a sweet, wet slide. Peter whimpers into it, pressing himself closer, arching his body up against Tony’s like he wants to crawl under his skin until he’s completely lost in him, drowning in his heat.</p>
<p>Tony’s hand cups Peter’s jaw while the other trails down his back, pulling him in, fingers digging eagerly into his bare hip. It’s such a heady thrill, to feel how much Tony wants him, to feel desired by someone as achingly desirable as Tony. Peter’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it. A shift of their hips and their lower bodies slot together just so and Peter bursts with pleasure, coming in his boxers with a startled gasp.</p>
<p>“Shit, sorry,” Peter says, breathless and embarrassed.</p>
<p>“No, baby, you’re incredible,” Tony says, kissing him deep and fervent. “So beautiful.” Tony kisses him all over, his mouth, his neck, his shoulders, undeniable affection in every heated press of his lips. Peter loves him so much, wants him so much, wants him to feel as good as he makes him feel.</p>
<p>Peter slips his hand between them, palming Tony’s arousal through his boxers. “I wanna touch you,” he murmurs against the older man’s lips. “Please? Let me feel you come.”</p>
<p>Tony hums a pleased sound. “Go for it, sweetheart. Take it, it’s all yours.”</p>
<p>Peter takes Tony’s cock out, gently gripping the impressive length of it in his fist. Tony grunts at the touch, kissing Peter’s neck. Peter strokes him, slow at first, savouring the feel of Tony’s weight in his hand, hardly believing that Tony’s allowing him to touch and please such an intimate part of him.</p>
<p>“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good,” Tony groans. “A little harder. Yeah, just like that. <em>Fuck</em>.”</p>
<p>The sounds Tony makes are so unbelievably beautiful, soft grunts and heavy breathing against Peter’s skin. Peter finds himself fully hard again just from hearing and feeling Tony’s pleasure. He shoves his boxers down, shifting their bodies so that their cocks slide against one another, Peter’s fist circling both their lengths as they rut together, his cum slicking the way.</p>
<p>Tony gasps, bucking his hips. “Oh shit, that’s good. That feels so good, baby. Keep going.” He leans in to capture Peter’s lips once more, kissing hungrily as they ride their way to the crest of their bliss.</p>
<p>Peter’s desire feels bigger than his body, filling him up until it feels like he’s overflowing with it. It’s all Tony, the centre of his universe and all the stars revolving it. Tony gets him there like nothing else and Peter strokes them faster, moaning at the touch and slide of their aching cocks.</p>
<p>Peter comes again, harder and more intense this time, like a supernova bursting out of his chest, like his whole body unravelling and releasing his atoms into air. Tony follows with a low groan, spilling hot and white between them.</p>
<p>They’re breathing hard as they return to their bodies. Peter feels lightheaded, fuzzy with bliss, like the ship’s gravity field is switched off and he could float away if it weren’t for Tony’s arms secure around him.</p>
<p>“Fuck, baby,” Tony huffs, skin flushed a little warmer than before. He kisses the top of Peter’s head, inhaling deep.</p>
<p>Peter gives a pleased hum. He probably has a dopey smile on his face, but he can’t help himself. “I like it when you call me that,” he says dreamily.</p>
<p>“What? ‘Baby’?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Peter snuggles closer into Tony’s chest, pressing his lips just underneath the slope of his clavicle. “I wanna be your baby.”</p>
<p>Tony chuckles, squeezing him tighter. “God help me. I really want you to be.”</p>
<p>“Yours?”</p>
<p>“Mine. Always. As I am yours.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tony’s surprised to find his stomach wound healing without any major problems. Nebula showed him how to use the splice Bug Lady had given them (‘Mantis’, Nebula said her name was) and in a few days, the cut had closed up, albeit with a pretty gnarly scar. Now he kinda wishes he has some of the splice left over to study when they get back to Earth.</p>
<p>The Blue Meanie’s been remarkably helpful and only a tiny bit sadistic. She’s quiet a lot of the time, grieving for her sister. It’s not something she likes to talk about and when she gets into one of her fugues, a murderous sheen glazes over her eyes and frankly, it’s a little terrifying.</p>
<p>Tony teaches her a flicky finger-goalie game to take her mind off things. She seems to enjoy it. But she and Peter can get alarmingly competitive about it and Tony ends up wondering if the game is really the right step in the direction of getting her to be <em>less</em> homicidal.</p>
<p>If Nebula catches on to what Tony and Peter do every night, she never brings it up and she doesn’t seem to give a shit. He doesn’t think he and Peter act any differently since that night, but he does notice an increase in their casual touches. Fingers touching when they pass each other tools. A steadying hand on the lower back when they walk by each other in the cockpit. It’s a small ship, alright? It can’t be helped.</p>
<p>Tony and Peter sleep curled around each other every night. At some point they decided to completely forego the underwear and sleep fully nude under the fur blanket. What’s the point anyway? It’s the only pieces of clothing they have and there’s no washing machine on board. No reason getting them any more dirty than they already are.</p>
<p>As soon as Tony slots himself against Peter’s back, the younger man can’t ever help but push his perfect ass up against him and every night Tony is helpless from getting hard, from grinding up against that sinful body, rubbing at him until they both come.</p>
<p>It’s very effective at keeping them both warm through the night.</p>
<p>There’s something about being in outer fucking space that makes all of this feel … not wrong. They’re the only two human beings for millions of miles, floating in a tiny spaceship with a cyborg. Right outside the walls they’re pressed into, there’s just the vast, unrelenting emptiness of space. Tony remembers looking into the void of space for the first time through that wormhole six years ago, remembers the crushing fear, the existential dread of realizing how utterly small, helpless, and insignificant he is in the face of such endless, colossal nothingness.</p>
<p>Peter’s kisses keep him alive, the soft touches of his lips are like an anchor that grounds him, holds him together. Hidden under that heavy blanket with Peter, both naked as the day they were born, they share warmth, they share pleasure. They’re just two people, surviving, staying alive, feeling alive. It feels right. It feels pure.</p>
<p>“Tony,” Peter sighs his name like a prayer and Tony worships him in turn, on his knees before the beautiful, younger man.</p>
<p>Tony feels a pressing ache in his chest that seems to only be soothed by kissing as much of Peter he could reach. He maps every inch of Peter’s body with his mouth, swallows his moans of pleasure straight from his lips, tastes the sweet bubble-gum pink of his sensitive nipples, tracks a path of heat down the smooth, taut planes of his stomach, down, down, down to the trembling, aching core of him.</p>
<p>The first touch of Tony’s tongue on the weeping head of Peter’s cock has him arching up with a loud cry and he slaps a hand over his own mouth in embarrassment. Tony shushes him, laughing even as he kisses Peter’s inner thighs.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Peter whispers sheepishly.</p>
<p>“Someday I’m gonna do this to you somewhere you can let it all out, be as loud as you want.” Tony trails open-mouthed kisses up and down Peter’s shaft. “I want to really give it to you, hear how good I make you feel.”</p>
<p>Peter’s fingers are buried in Tony’s hair, gripping in spasms as he tries to hold in his pleasured whimpers. He gasps when Tony takes his entire length in his mouth, sucking him in wet and deep.</p>
<p>It’s been so long since Tony’s been on this end of a blowjob but it quickly comes back to him. It’s easy with Peter. Everything feels natural, even the weight of his dick in his mouth, the light musky taste of him is safe and familiar, like this is how they’ve always meant to be, entangled in each other like this. Tony settles into a rhythm, bobbing his head, swirling his tongue with every movement, hand coming up to massage Peter’s balls as he sucks him.</p>
<p>Peter bucks his hips up, showing immense restraint for someone who could probably fuck Tony’s throat raw. Peter’s obvious lust feeds into Tony’s own, and he’s hard and throbbing between his legs, but he’s too fixated on lighting up Peter’s senses than to satiate his own arousal. It’s all about Peter. Tony wants to drive him crazy, show him everything, give him pleasure like he’s never felt before, show him just how good he can feel.</p>
<p>Tony groans around Peter’s length when he feels the younger man’s grip tightening in his hair. Peter’s abs tighten, toes curling, hips thrusting reflexively, cockhead driving further into the wet cavern of Tony’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Tony-“ Peter could barely gasp out a warning before he comes with a moan. Tony relaxes his throat, swallowing around him as Peter twitches on his tongue.</p>
<p>Pulling off gently, Tony crawls up Peter’s flushed body, taking in the way the younger man looks up at him with affection and reverence, heat still clouding his dark brown eyes.</p>
<p><em>Gorgeous</em>, Tony thinks, leaning down to kiss him, letting Peter taste his spend on Tony’s tongue.</p>
<p>As they kiss, Peter slips his hand between them and curls his fingers around Tony’s almost painfully hard length. It doesn’t take much, a few well-placed strokes and Tony spills into Peter’s hand, groaning in satisfaction against his lips.</p>
<p>Tony moves to lie down on his side, pulling Peter flush against him, uncaring about the mess between them. Peter slots into place, head on Tony’s shoulder, arm around his stomach. Their bodies fit together so perfectly like puzzle pieces, or like heartbeat stars in a binary system, incomplete without the other.</p>
<p>Peter tilts his head up, looking up at Tony with his chin propped on the older man’s shoulder. “Do you promise?” he whispers.</p>
<p>“Promise what?”</p>
<p>“Before. You said we’ll do this somewhere we can be … you know … somewhere we don’t have to hold back.” Peter looks heartbreakingly beautiful, angel eyes wide with cautious hope. “You mean back home, right? Back on Earth? This isn’t just some … you know, crisis thing. We’ll still have this when we get back.”</p>
<p>It’s probably more complicated than that. But right now it’s hard to fathom a world outside their warm little cocoon, and there’s no way Tony could possibly say no to those eyes.</p>
<p>“I promise, Pete.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tony has always considered himself a Futurist. It’s both a gift and a curse in the sense that it’s made him a great inventor in terms of developing exciting, cutting-edge innovation for the prosperity of mankind, but also in terms of foreseeing potential problems, the trouble in the horizon that most people are either too blind to see or prefer to pretend aren’t there.</p>
<p>It’s always been a big picture sort of thing. It’s about the future of the world, the future of humanity. But the future of Tony Stark himself, as an individual? As a man? He finds that he just sort of takes it one day at a time. Sure, let’s burn the midnight candle three nights in a row without thinking about how it might affect his body. Let’s keep using the suit that’s been seeping him with toxic heavy metals even though it was literally, actively killing him.</p>
<p>It’s not like he’s self-destructive, really. There just hasn’t been that dream of a suburban sprawl and matching golden wedding bands and 2.5 children or whatever it is normal people dream about to keep him going. He doesn’t see anything there. It’s just empty, like the literal void of space he’s staring into.</p>
<p>Although, to be fair, a significant part of Tony’s anxieties about outer space and beyond have revolved around Thanos and the threat he represents. But just because Thanos himself is dead, doesn’t mean that the threat is over. The universe is near infinite, and not to mention his growing suspicions of the existence of a multiverse. Thanos is just the beginning, not the end. That’s the shit that haunts his dreams. It’s always going to be one thing after another, stretching endlessly into the distance, and he’s never been able to see what’s beyond it until now, not until Peter. Peter makes him see the light at the end of the tunnel. Peter makes him want more.</p>
<p>It’s just as terrifying, but in a completely different way.</p>
<p>“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go to outer space.” Peter’s staring out the window too. There’s no dread or fear in his eyes though, only a wholesome sort of fascination, a genuine curiosity. And space doesn’t look nearly as terrible when reflected in Peter’s eyes.</p>
<p>“Is it everything you’ve always wanted it to be?” Tony asks.</p>
<p>“Star Wars may have skewed my expectations a little bit. Reality has a disappointing lack of lightsabers.”</p>
<p>“I can probably make you a lightsaber, if you want.”</p>
<p>Peter grins at him. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“What is a ‘lightsaber’?” Nebula asks.</p>
<p>“It’s like a sword where the blade is made out of contained plasma energy,” Tony replies.</p>
<p>“Oh, you mean like this?” Nebula pulls out a dagger hilt from her boot and fires it up, the blade switching on and crackling blue.</p>
<p>“Holy shit!” Peter exclaims. “Can I see?”</p>
<p>It’s probably no truer testament to Nebula’s acceptance of them that she didn’t even hesitate to hand over one of her weapons to Peter. It’s only about the length of Peter’s forearm, but he still swings it around excitedly, humming lightsaber noises as he goes.</p>
<p>“You really had to one up me, didn’t you?” Tony grumbles to Nebula, who gives him one of her strange mouth-quirks that passes as a grin for her.</p>
<p>“My sister gave me that dagger,” Nebula says as she and Tony watch Peter amuse himself with it.</p>
<p>“Yeah? That’s nice of her.”</p>
<p>Nebula considers this. “I suppose,” she says after a while. “We had just completed cleansing the planet Valiter and were distributing spoils. Both Gamora and I had our eyes on a specialized blaster. A beautiful weapon, with a handle carved from a local demon’s skull. Naturally our father had us fight for it.” Nebula’s expression clouds over. “Naturally I lost. So Father gouged out my eye and replaced it with a bionic prosthesis. The better to see attacks with, he says. Later, Gamora gave me this dagger to make me feel better. So yes, it was nice of her.”</p>
<p>“Nebula?” Tony says.</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you got to kill that son of a bitch.”</p>
<p>“Me too.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“So what’s the deal with the whole college thing anyway?”</p>
<p>Peter groans. “We’re really gonna do this? We’re literally in space.”</p>
<p>“I’m just curious.” Tony says. They just had dinner, their usual menu of rationed Yaro root with a side order of more Yaro root. Tony’s stomach isn’t too happy with what he’s been putting in it so they’re just sitting up in their little cot to wait for it to settle. “It’s better than playing another game with you. You, my friend, are a sore loser.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t be a sore loser if <em>certain people</em> didn’t cheat.”</p>
<p>“How does one even cheat at thumb wars? It’s just skill, baby.”</p>
<p>“You keep, like … making sounds,” Peter accuses lamely, probably referring to the exaggerated grunting Tony does to distract him during their matches.</p>
<p>Tony neither confirms nor denies those allegations though, and he just continues looking at Peter expectantly, waiting for him to answer his original question.</p>
<p>Peter sighs. “I just … to be honest, I just didn’t know what I wanted to do,” he admits. “Well, no, I <em>do</em> know what I want to do, like, in general. I just didn’t know how to go about doing it. The only thing in my life that ever gave it meaning is being Spider-man. And I wanted to do something that would help me do that. Engineering seemed like the obvious choice, to really help me work on the suit. But like you said, the suit isn’t what makes me Spider-man. Maybe I should get into molecular biology to really get into studying my genetic mutation, see what else this thing can do.” He gestures to his body.</p>
<p>“And then the more I started thinking about it, what really comes down to it, is that I really like helping people. It’s not always genocidal alien maniacs. In my world, a lot of the times it’s just people, driven to do things that they maybe don’t necessarily want to do out of unfortunate circumstances. Maybe helping isn’t always about webbing people up for the cops to collect. Maybe it’s about counselling and rehabilitation. So maybe I should take up psychology, or maybe even social work to really build a strong connection between what I’ll do as Peter Parker and what I already do as Spider-man.”</p>
<p>Peter sighs. “I don’t know, it’s just too much. Analysis paralysis, you know. It’s so weird that we’re supposed to have everything figured out at 18-years-old. I just thought maybe I should spend a bit more time doing the Spider-man thing, get some more experience, to really figure out what I really need to, like, be better at it. And if it turns out that it isn’t college that I need, then … do I really have to do it?”</p>
<p>Tony is quiet at that. Peter never ceases to amaze him with his intelligence and level of introspection. Tony is once again confronted by what a truly good person Peter is, with a wisdom way beyond his years. Way beyond Tony’s years too, it seems.</p>
<p>“And then there I was,” Peter continues, “starting to write up an essay for applications when it hits me, I can’t even write about the one thing that means the most to me. What else could be as profound in my life aside from the Spider-man thing?”</p>
<p>“You know I got pull at MIT if you’re thinking of going with engineering. Probably won’t even need to write any essays.”</p>
<p>Peter snorts. “Right. ‘Cause that’s the answer to everything. Nepotism.”</p>
<p>Tony shrugs. “It’s what my dad did with me.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? But you’re like a genius. You could’ve easily gotten into any colleges you applied to without any kind of special treatment.”</p>
<p>“Maybe. I mean, I got early admission. They sort of scouted me out when I was still in high school and sure, they probably thought I could do a thing or two with them. But I’m also pretty damn sure that the sizable donation my dad promised to give whichever institution I ended up going to really helped with all that.”</p>
<p>Peter frowns, looking thoughtful. “The higher education system is fucked up.”</p>
<p>“No arguments there.”</p>
<p>“So why are you so gung-ho about me going to college then?”</p>
<p>“If I’m being honest, after listening to your whole speech, I can’t even remember anymore,” Tony admits. “I guess I just didn’t want you to miss out on the normal people stuff because of the whole Spider-man thing. I got to have a whole life before I became Iron Man. You were just a teenager when you got your powers.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I’m really missing out. Being Spider-man has shaped so much of who I am, and it’s something I wanna keep doing. What the hell do ‘normal people’ do anyway that I have to do too? Get hammered at frat parties? Get a piece of paper from an overpriced institution so I can sit at a desk and answer emails?”</p>
<p>“I was thinking more along the lines of living life without the weight of superheroics. It gets pretty heavy, you know. You shouldn’t be carrying it so young.”</p>
<p>“But it’s not something I can just take off. These powers are a part of me now whether I like it or not. And with it comes-”</p>
<p>“- comes great responsibility, I know,” Tony finishes for him. “Look, I’m not trying to convince you to do anything, I promise. I just wanted to understand where you’re coming from. And I do, I swear.”</p>
<p>“But…” Peter prompts.</p>
<p>“But nothing,” Tony says honestly. “I learnt pretty quickly in all our time together that you’re the one who knows what’s best for you. I just want you to know that whatever happens, whatever you want to do … I’m here for you. For whatever you need.”</p>
<p>Peter smiles. “That’s all I need, really.” He crawls over to Tony and climbs on his lap, wrapping himself around the man like an octopus, pulling him up for a kiss.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>
  <em>They’re out of water. They’re out of food. The ship is running out of air soon.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The gaping, empty darkness of space waits for him just outside the cockpit’s window. He has no energy left to fight. He’s lost everything, his heart torn out of his chest and burnt to ashes in his hands, taken by the wind. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’ll never forget the way those eyes wept with fear, looked at him for comfort, pleaded for a salvation that he couldn’t give. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He couldn’t save the one person that meant the most to him, the most important thing in his universe. He had to live knowing that he failed, that he couldn’t save him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He failed.</em>
</p>
<p>Tony wakes with a jolt.</p>
<p>Peter. Where’s-</p>
<p>“Hey, it’s okay.” Peter’s voice is soothing, his arms strong and solid around him. “It’s okay, Tony. I’m here. You’re okay.” They’re in their little sleep corner, in a ship that’s still going, still breathing. They’re under their usual blanket, wrapped around each other like they have been for so many nights now.</p>
<p>Tony shudders out a breath and buries his face in the crook of Peter’s neck, holding him close. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Tony breathes in the warmth emanating from Peter’s soft skin, feeling the pulse fluttering at his neck, letting the rhythmic thuds of Peter’s heart slow down his own. Peter is here. He’s alive. They’re alive.</p>
<p>They lie together like that, tangled in each other. It’s astonishing how safe Peter makes him feel. They’re traversing through actual <em>space</em> right now in a rickety patchwork of a space buggy, and yet, lying there in Peter’s arms, fresh on the heels of his usual nightmares, he feels like he could breathe. The solid pressure of Peter’s body around him is reassuring instead of stifling and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that it takes a while for all the tension in his body to release. It does, though, eventually. He even manages to close his eyes and sleep for a little while longer.</p>
<p>A few hours later, they join Nebula at the cockpit, gazing out the front window.</p>
<p>“There it is. Earth,” Nebula says, using the humans’ name for the planet.</p>
<p>Finally there’s a break in the endless sea of black surrounding them. A blue and green marble hangs suspended in the distance, half in shadow.</p>
<p>They made it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soooo? Was that worth the *checks word count* 26k of build up? Or are you bummed cause they didn’t go all the way all the way? There’s no lube in space, unfortunately, so we’re all gonna have to wait a little longer. </p>
<p>Thank you again for the continuous support week in and week out. Your comments and kudos are the breaths of life for this fic and I would have nowhere near the motivation and commitment to continue writing without it. Love you lots, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy it.</p>
<p>Also, Ocean’s Eleven is literally my favourite movie of all time. Don’t @ me.</p>
<p>For any other subject, you may @ me at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s different for Tony and Peter, being back on Earth, and not in ways that are all good</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>It’s almost 3am EST when they enter the atmosphere, and the Avengers Facility is mostly deserted when they land. Natasha Romanoff runs up to greet them on the manicured lawn, amazement and disbelief all over her features.</p><p>“Tony.” She throws her arms around him, hugging him tight. “We thought you were dead.”</p><p>Tony returns the embrace. “Sorry to disappoint,” he jokes.</p><p>Natasha huffs an incredulous laugh into his neck, fist-bumping his shoulder in faux-annoyance. When she pulls away, her gaze moves to Peter, hovering nearby.</p><p>“Oh, that’s uh-” Tony hesitates for a second, unsure of whether Peter wants more people to know his name, though his face is already unmasked as they stepped off the ship. But the man in question takes the decision from him by stepping forward and extending a hand to Natasha in awkward formality.</p><p>“Peter. Peter Parker,” he says.</p><p>“Spider-man,” Natasha says, smiling, taking the outstretched hand and pulling him into an equally warm hug. “Thanks for bringing the old man home.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, that’s mostly Nebula,” Peter says, parting to look back at the ship from where Nebula is approaching them warily.</p><p>There’s a moment where the two deadly assassins size each other up with silent looks, but it passes quickly as they seem to reach an unspoken understanding. At Natasha’s nod, the three of them follow her back to the compound’s main building.</p><p>Tony and Peter are swiftly whisked off for decontamination and testing. The on-call medical team moves quickly around them, taking blood samples, directing them for scanning, and they don’t really get a chance to talk much. Tony loses Peter somewhere between the throat swab and the PET scan and he gets ushered into an observation room before he could see him again.</p><p>The room is part of the facility’s medical ward, and while it looks comfortable enough, with decorative plywood paneling and heavy, beige curtains, there’s no mistaking it from a hospital room with the cranked bed frame and row of monitors lining the back wall.</p><p>To complete the serious, clinical imagery of it all, Pepper and Happy are there waiting for him. Natasha must have called them when he was in the lab.</p><p>Pepper’s tearful expression brings back memories of limping off a C-17 aircraft in a sling after spending time in good old Gulmira. This time she doesn’t hesitate from launching herself at him.</p><p>“Oh my God, Tony,” Pepper chokes out against his neck. “You’re here. You’re back. I can’t believe it.”</p><p>“I’m here,” Tony confirms, rubbing her back soothingly. Over her shoulder, he glances at Happy, who gives him a tight smile. There’s worry and relief in his eyes too and when Pepper lets go, he allows Happy to give him his usual gruff embrace.</p><p>Once he’s released, Tony goes to sit on the bed. Earth’s gravity feels too strong and heavy after two weeks in a glitchy spaceship, plus all that crap they made him do at the labs really exhausted him.</p><p>“What … what happened up there?” Pepper asks. “How did you get back?”</p><p>“Cliff’s notes version: we fought the Big Bad. He’s dead now. We somehow managed to not die in the process. Then we hitched a ride home with the Big Bad’s daughter. Who killed him, by the way. Have you met her? You’d like her. She should be around here somewhere.”</p><p>“’We’ as in you and Peter?” Happy asks.</p><p>“Yeah, me and Peter,” Tony says. He feels a twist in his gut that feels uncomfortably like guilt, putting him and Peter in the same phrase like that, like they’re a singular unit. Like they’re an item. The idea of bringing it up with Pepper and Happy of all people right now is making him feel a little queasy. Or maybe it’s just Earth’s gravity again. “Speaking of which. We should probably let his aunt know-“</p><p>“She’s on her way here,” Happy assures him.</p><p>“She called up Stark Industries the day you disappeared,” Pepper explains. “She knows about the whole Spider-man thing. There’s been videos of him getting pulled up by that spaceship and you chasing after him. We had people from R&amp;D trying to find a way to contact you, but after a while, we realized the only person who could possibly figure out how to do that would be … well, <em>you</em>.” Pepper nods wryly at him. “We’ve been in close contact with May Parker this whole time, keeping her updated. Well, Happy has anyway.”</p><p>For some reason, Happy’s face flushes at that statement and Tony raises an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“Okay, that’s … that’s good,” Tony says. “I’m sure she’s been worried sick.”</p><p>Pepper catches him up on what’s been happening in his absence. She knows better than to bore him with the details of the way his disappearance affected the company’s value stock. But now that he’s back, she tells him he’s going to need to meet with the board at some point. Give proof of life and sanity and all that. Last time Tony disappeared for an extended period of time, he came back with a conscience and overturned the entire company’s mission. He’s sure everyone’s anxious about what he’s returned with now.</p><p>Tony <em>is</em> a changed man after all this, but he doesn’t think it’s in a way that affects the company.</p><p>Or is it? Being romantically involved with someone over twenty years younger than him would probably ruffle some feathers. Or maybe he’s overestimating the morals of modern society. He wouldn’t be the first decrepit billionaire hooking up with a beautiful young thing. Although he would be the first billionaire who’s also a household-name superhero. There may be some moral expectations that come with that</p><p>Tony’s stomach churns at the thought of he and Peter being reduced to a sleazy stereotype. It’s absurd. What he and Peter have feels much too profound for that. How can he make the world see that, though? Is it even important for everyone to know? The last thing Peter and Spider-man need is to be held under the outrageous scrutiny of the media circus.</p><p>Tony is still lost in thought, having tuned out Pepper long ago, when the door opens and Natasha walks in.</p><p>“Hey,” she says. “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”</p><p>“Better now that I’ve showered two weeks worth of gunk off of me,” Tony replies. “How’d the gang take the news?”</p><p>“There was a lot of crying. Tears of disappointment, I’m sure.”</p><p>Tony snorts out a laugh as Natasha does her characteristic crooked grin. God, he missed her. Her departure from the Avengers had hurt. But she had stood by him in the beginning, and seeing her again now, it’s almost all water under the bridge.</p><p>Pepper clears her throat. “I should probably get going. There’s gonna be a lot of fires to put out once news hits the press.” To Natasha she says, “I’m assuming they’ll want Tony there in Geneva on Thursday?”</p><p>“Yeah if he’s up for it,” Natasha replies.</p><p>Pepper nods. She walks over to Tony and squeezes his shoulder. “Rest up. I’ll call you soon about the meetings.”</p><p>Tony reaches up and touches her elbow in a comforting gesture. “That sounds like a threat, Ms. Potts.”</p><p>“Oh, it is, Mr. Stark,” Pepper says wryly.</p><p>“See you soon, boss,” Happy says with a nod, and he and Pepper leave the room.</p><p>Now that it’s just him and Natasha in there, Tony asks, “okay, so what’s the deal?”</p><p>“There’s no ‘deal’,” Natasha says, making herself comfortable on the couch next to his bed. “We’re all flying to Geneva in three days, but now that everyone knows you’re here … If you’re going, there’s gonna be a meeting over holo with the whole team. Debrief each other on what’s been happening to prepare for the summit.”</p><p>“‘Whole team’, huh?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>There’s really no need for a roll call. The unspoken ‘Rogers and Barnes’ is included in the ‘whole team’ and they both know it.</p><p>“Well, that should be a hoot and a half,” Tony says lightly. “Yeah, I’ll go to Geneva. So everyone else is in Wakanda, huh? How come you’re not over there with them?”</p><p>“Partly boredom. Mostly because I didn’t think there was much I could do there. There were a lot of post-battle restorations and working on de-stoning Vision’s forehead. Figured I’d do what I do best and work in the shadows with Fury and Hill.”</p><p>“Fury’s here?”</p><p>“Yeah. Why?”</p><p>Tony shrugs. “Just trying to figure out where all the players are. I’m sure it’s been a big two weeks for good old planet Earth.”</p><p>Natasha quirks a smile. “And without her greatest defender, too.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. Cap’s back now, so.”</p><p>“I meant you.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Natasha doesn’t say anything else at that and it seems like she’s refusing to make it easy for him.</p><p>Tony sighs heavily. “So when I said ‘what’s the deal’ earlier, you know I meant what’s the deal with Steve and … everything.”</p><p>“I know,” Natasha echoes him. She’s watching him with a bit more scrutiny than he likes. “He misses you. He kept that damn phone charged and with him the whole time.”</p><p>Tony scoffs. “Why do people keep thinking the ball’s in <em>my </em>court? Like it’s <em>my </em>fault the Avengers broke up and it’s <em>my </em>fault Steve’s not around. The phone works both ways last I checked. And what the fuck was I supposed to say? He ran off with the guy that killed my parents.”</p><p>“That was Hydra, not Bucky,” Natasha reminds him.</p><p>“And you were KGB. But <em>you</em> owned up to it and faced the consequences,” Tony counters. “Steve’s hiding him away like a coward.”</p><p>“We all face our demons in due time. Bucky’s in Wakanda awaiting trial. In the meantime, he’s  getting clean. They rewired him in Wakanda’s labs to undo all the conditioning, and the Princess Shuri is preparing to testify.”</p><p>“And if he’s found guilty, what will Steve do then?”</p><p>Natasha gives a half-hearted shrug. “Something dramatic, probably.”</p><p>Tony snorts derisively. “That’s nice. Good for them.”</p><p>Natasha turns serious. “Look, Tony. The Avengers are yours. You and Steve’s. You guys were the ones who kept the team together after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. And you guys are the ones who have the vision and the will to hold us together moving forward.”</p><p>“Do you really believe that?” Tony looks at her. “You know he sent me a letter with that stupid phone? Yeah, he said the Avengers were more mine than his. But he took <em>all </em>of you with him. Rhodey was the only one who stayed. So don’t tell me the Avengers are <em>ours</em>.”</p><p>“He also said that if you need him, he’ll be there. We all would.”</p><p>“Really? You were banking on me being emotionally mature enough to ask for help when I needed it?”</p><p>Natasha sighs. “I know. Maybe we all need to go to group therapy after this. You know, Sam’s got some counselling experience. Maybe we can ask him.”</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “So that’s it, then? Nothing’s changed?”</p><p>“I think you really need to talk to him. Get some closure, if nothing else. I’m not playing mediator between the two of you.”</p><p>“Fine. But if he decides to pick a fight again, I expect you to stay on my side this time.”</p><p>“I’m a spy. I make no promises.”</p><p>Tony huffs, leaning back on the pillows propped up on his bed. He’s so not looking forward to meeting Cap again after all this time.</p><p>He can feel Natasha’s laser sharp gaze scrutinizing him from where she’s sitting on the couch and it’s rapidly approaching the territory of deeply uncomfortable. It’s the kind of inspection that should be reserved for interrogating double agents and hardened criminals, not exhausted old men that just crash landed from space.</p><p>Irritated, Tony says, “just spit it out. You made me say it so I’m making you say it too. It’s only fair.”</p><p>The corner of Natasha’s mouth twitches upwards, but she decides to take pity on him. “So. Spider-man, huh.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“He’s a cute kid.”</p><p>“I do have functional eyes, yes.”</p><p>“Among other things, I’m sure.”</p><p>Tony winces. “Nat-”</p><p>“How old is he?” she asks. There’s no judgment in her tone, nothing accusatory, but Tony still feels it anyway in her words.</p><p>“Eighteen,” he answers. He can practically see Natasha doing the math in her head. Lying seems out of the question. Lying to <em>her</em>, anyway. Besides, his lack of denial to what she’s clearly implying seems to tell her all she needs to know.</p><p>He wonders if he’s supposed to be on the defensive, quickly assure her that nothing … untoward happened until very recently. He wonders if pointing out the age of consent in the city they’re in just makes him sound like a sleazeball. He knows that whatever comes out of his mouth will mean more to Natasha than any of the words themselves actually say, so he says nothing.</p><p>But his silence seems to be telling her something anyway, because she moves on to ask, “is he joining the Avengers then?”</p><p>“I don’t know. That’s up to him.”</p><p>“Everyone knows Spider-man’s involved. They all saw you fly after him. Once word gets out that he’s alive, they’ll be expecting him to make an appearance at the summit.”</p><p>“I know,” Tony says solemnly. “I’ll have to talk to him about it.”</p><p>“Alright. Sooner is better than later. There’s only a few days ‘til Geneva.” Natasha stands up from the couch. “You should get some rest.”</p><p>Tony blinks. “That’s it? You’re not gonna go all Clarice Starling on me?”</p><p>Natasha chuckles. “I thought we just did the whole quid pro quo. You’re not the bad guy here, Tony. And besides, like you said, there’s a lot that you guys need to talk about. There’s no point interrogating you now. I’ll get back to you once you’ve figured some stuff out.”</p><p>Tony groans. “Great. More threats. Should’ve just stayed up in space.”</p><p>“They do say no one can hear you scream out there,” Natasha says with a sly grin before slipping out of the room, leaving Tony with his thoughts and no small amount of dread.</p><p>--</p><p>Aunt May was already in tears when she burst in the room they were holding Peter in for observation. Peter does his best to soothe her with reassuring words, letting her hold him tight, letting her know that he’s okay, he’s alive.</p><p>“What happened? Tell me everything,” Aunt May demanded.</p><p>And Peter wasn’t about to tell her <em>everything</em> everything, just the important, PG-13 parts. But there must have been something on his face or in his eyes when he talked about his and Tony’s long trip home that her eyes grew increasingly narrow and the lines in her forehead creased ever deeper as he spoke.</p><p>“He <em>didn’t</em>.” Aunt May’s voice is cold and flat.</p><p>“Who didn’t what?” Peter asked, stomach already sinking.</p><p>“<em>You didn’t</em>,” Aunt May says again, starting to sound deeply accusing.</p><p>Sensing that there’s no way he can possibly lie his way out of this, not when his aunt is like this, Peter quickly says, “I can explain.”</p><p>“You’ve gotta be <em>kidding me,</em> right?”</p><p>“I know it sounds crazy, but Tony and I are-</p><p>“-of all the things I imagined was happening to you in <em>outer space</em>-”</p><p>“-it’s really not that bad, I promise-”</p><p>“What were you <em>thinking</em>? He’s <em>so much older</em> than you!”</p><p>A bit too defensively, Peter starts, “You and Uncle Ben-”</p><p>Aunt May points a stern finger at him. “<em>Don’t</em> you bring Ben into this. He’s only twelve years older than me, first of all. And second, I didn’t start dating him when I was a <em>teenager</em>. And third, I can’t believe you made me refer to a <em>twelve year</em> age gap as <em>‘only’</em>!”</p><p>“May, it’s … it’s fine. It’s all fine, I swear. It was all consensual, and it’s not like a one and done, last-night-on-earth thing. It’s … we’re serious about this.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s ‘serious’, is it? You’re <em>dating</em> Tony Stark now? You guys are <em>boyfriends</em>?” Something about hearing those words out loud, in Aunt May’s heavily derisive tone no less, makes it all sound way too fantastic to be real.</p><p>“… Yes.” Peter only hesitated for a fraction of a second, but his perceptive aunt still picked up on it.</p><p>“Peter.”</p><p>“I know what it sounds like, okay? And … yeah, we haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about it much, but we literally just got back. I know he cares about me. And I care about him too.”</p><p>Aunt May is looking at him with a formidable combination of anger and disbelief, but what’s bothering Peter the most is the undercurrent of pity that’s clear in her eyes. Peter’s not stupid. He knows what it looks like, what he sounds like, and all the concerns going through his aunt’s mind. What he doesn’t know is how to assuage them. Peter’s eighteen now. He’s grown. But he knows the more he insists he’s grown up, the less he’ll sound like it.</p><p>“I’m not gonna stop,” he says, trying to sound calm but firm.</p><p>“You’re Spider-man,” Aunt May shoots back. “Who in the world could possibly stop you?”</p><p>“May…” Peter says sadly.</p><p>Aunt May shakes her head. “You’re really gonna be the death of me, kid, you know that? I already go crazy with worry about you being Spider-man. You have any idea what it was like in the two weeks you were gone? I know you’re a good kid and I know I can’t ever stop you from doing the superhero thing ‘cause you got the biggest heart I know, and you wouldn’t be you if you just walked away. But now I gotta worry about that good heart of yours breaking too?”</p><p>Peter takes his aunt’s hands and kisses her knuckles. “May,” he says earnestly. “You don’t ever have to worry about me.”</p><p>Aunt May gives him a watery smile and squeezes his hands. “Peter, you’re practically my son. You’re my boy. I know you’re technically an adult now and you’ve done and gone through so many things most adults haven’t. But you’re still my boy. I’m gonna worry about you whether you like it or not. I literally just got you back. I can’t-” she shudders, “-I can’t lose you again.”</p><p>“And you’re not gonna.” Peter takes a deep breath. “I know this whole thing with me and Tony is a little … unexpected. But you gotta trust me on this. Whatever happens … it’s gonna be because I decided to go through it, because I thought it was worth it.”</p><p>Aunt May sighs. “You know I’ve always been honest with you, Peter. And I can’t in good conscience not say this to you. So just … listen to what I’m saying, okay?” She levels him with a grave look. “You’re gonna get hurt, Pete. I’m not trying to invalidate what you feel, but there’s just … a lot of things about this. The age difference is just the tip of the iceberg with Tony Stark. He’s a <em>billionaire</em>. He’s <em>world</em> <em>famous</em>. That alone is a can of complicated worms that you’re gonna have to deal with. Plus he’s <em>Iron Man</em>? How can you have a normal relationship with someone like that?”</p><p>“I’m not exactly normal either, May. How am <em>I</em> supposed to have a relationship with some rando down the street?”</p><p>“I don’t know. If you <em>must</em> date a superhero, at least that guy with the cat ears running around Hell’s Kitchen isn’t pushing <em>fifty</em>.”</p><p>“Forty-three isn’t ‘pushing fifty’. Also, I think they’re supposed to be horns. And how would you know? Daredevil could be over sixty for all anyone knows.”</p><p>Aunt May considers this for a moment, then shrugs in an <em>okay, fair </em>gesture. She chuckles quietly, giving her nephew a resigned smile. “Tony Stark better be paying for my blood pressure pills.”</p><p>Peter huffs a relieved laugh. “Is that your way of saying you give your blessing?”</p><p>“Hell no. It’s my way of saying I’m here for you. No matter what happens.”</p><p>--</p><p>When Peter slips into Tony’s room a while later, the older man is still awake, scrolling through a tablet, a pair of understated reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks clean and handsome sitting up in bed like that, like all of Peter’s secret, soft, domestic dreams come true.</p><p>Tony looks up. “Hey,” he says, scooching over on the bed with one arm out, an unspoken invitation for Peter to join him.</p><p>Peter gives a small smile, climbing onto the mattress and pulling the blankets over them both, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. Tony’s arm circles around him and they look at the tablet together where the touch screen is showing several news sites reporting on the recent alien invasion.</p><p>“Just catching up on current events, see what we missed out on,” Tony says. “There’s a video of you getting beamed up. Wanna see?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>It’s on YouTube with close to ten million views. The video is shaky with a lot of yelling background noise, taken from what looks like the balcony of an apartment building. Peter is but a speck in the distance suspended from that flying donut ship.</p><p>“That feels like a lifetime ago,” Peter says.</p><p>“A lot of things have happened since then,” Tony agrees, turning to kiss the top of Peter’s head. “How’s your aunt?”</p><p>Peter sighs. “Freaking out as usual. Not that I blame her, really. Ever since Uncle Ben … well, it took her a while to get used to the whole Spider-man thing. And we were <em>just</em> getting to a place where she can let me go out on patrol without going insane with worry, and then <em>this</em> happened.” Peter pauses, fingers tracing light circles on Tony’s stomach through the thin fabric of shirt. “I think maybe I’m gonna take it a bit easier on the patrolling, at least for a while. Try not to stress her out too much. Plus, she, uh, kinda knows about us.”</p><p>“You told her?” Tony asks, surprised.</p><p>“No, she figured it out!” Peter says quickly. “I guess I have a really terrible poker face.”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “How you hid being Spider-man from her for almost two years, I’ll never know.”</p><p>“In my defence, having super spidey powers is a lot less believable than having a boyfriend.”</p><p>Peter feels Tony stiffen underneath him at the word ‘boyfriend’ and his stomach sinks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” he mutters, but then, feeling irritated, wondering what is it really he’s supposed to be sorry about, he continues, “-I mean, you said nothing would change once we’re home. That we’ll still be … whatever we are. Whatever you thought we were up there.”</p><p>“No, you’re right.” Tony rubs Peter’s shoulder placatingly, kissing his forehead. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Just took me by surprise, is all.”</p><p>Peter looks up at him. “Liar,” he comments.</p><p>“No, really. Sure, I’ve hooked up with some guys before, but it was never anything serious.”</p><p>“I meant about what’s bothering you.”</p><p>Tony shifts them on the bed so they’re facing each other, nose to nose. Peter barely caught a glimpse of the warm brown of Tony’s expressive eyes before they’re kissing, their first real kiss on planet Earth.</p><p>Peter sinks into it easily, hands coming up to grip Tony’s waist, pulling their bodies closer. Their mouths part and their kisses quickly grow hungry, burning and grasping. There’s a demanding sort of desperation in the way Tony cups Peter’s jaw, tilting his face up to deepen the kiss. His head is getting fuzzy with desire and he pushes Tony away before he loses himself in the heated sensations.</p><p>Tony’s eyes are dark with arousal and it really doesn’t help Peter’s resolve.</p><p>“Why does it feel like you’re making this our last kiss?” Peter whispers.</p><p>“I’m not,” Tony says, leaning in to kiss him again. Peter lets him, because god, how could he not? Tony’s lips are moving hard and urgent against his and he’s helpless from getting swept away.</p><p>It hurts to stand his ground and pull away, but Peter does it anyway. “Tony, if you don’t … if you’re…” <em>breaking up with me</em>. He can’t even say it. Does it even count as breaking up when they never even got a chance to be together?</p><p>“No, baby, I’m not …” Tony looks like he wants to kiss him again, but Peter holds him back.</p><p>“I need you to warn me if this is going to be our last kiss,” Peter says, voice shaking a little.</p><p>“It’s not, I swear,” Tony says firmly, but he sighs, avoiding Peter’s eyes. “Not the last ever. But … maybe for a while?” He straightens up and rubs a hand tiredly over his face. “There’s going to be a summit with the UN in Geneva in three days.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay.” Peter frowns. “You’re going?”</p><p>“Yeah. I think I have to. They’re gonna want to know what happened up there.”</p><p>“Alright. When will you be back?”</p><p>“In about a week, maybe. There’s gonna be talks about the future of the Avengers too. But Pete, it’s not gonna stop with Geneva. I’m gonna be under close scrutiny for a while. You said you wanted to keep a low profile and take it easy with the Spider-man thing. You won’t be able to do that if you’re around me.”</p><p>“That’s not fair. When are you <em>not</em> under close scrutiny? Have you met you? I know what I signed up for.”</p><p>“I know. But at least until this dies down a little and the attention isn’t so … intense. Everyone knows I was with Spider-man when I went up to space. You’re on the government’s radar now. They’re going to want to know who you are. They’ll be after you.”</p><p>Peter is quiet for a while as he considers this. “Then maybe it’s time for Spider-man to take off his mask.”</p><p>“Peter, don’t …” Tony brushes Peter’s hair back from his forehead, caressing his cheek. “Don’t make any rash decisions. I’m not … we’re not over, I promise. I made a promise to you, didn’t I? You and me. I’m still in this. It’s just … Let me figure some stuff out first. Get everything in order. Then we’ll pick up where we left off. Don’t compromise your safety and identity just because of this.”</p><p>“They’re gonna ask you about me, aren’t they? In Geneva.”</p><p>“I’ll cover for you. Nat won’t tell anyone, even under torture, and the medical team’s got their souls tied up in NDAs. I’ll keep you safe, Pete, I swear to you.”</p><p>Peter sighs, burying his face in Tony’s chest, arms coming up to hold him. “The only thing I’m scared of is losing you. I’ll wait for you, Tony, for however long you tell me to, as long as we’re together in the end. I don’t know if I could let you go if it’s for good.”</p><p>Tony tilts Peter’s face up and kisses him. “I think it’s safe to say that I can’t let go of this either,” he murmurs.</p><p>Peter hums and kisses him back. They kiss like they’re back in space, with nothing but their feelings and will to survive, and not safely back on Earth, weighed down by its gravity, responsibility, and expectations.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony’s nightmares haven’t gone away. If anything, they’ve increased, both in frequency and intensity.</p><p>Having gone up there and back with Peter had helped ease his anxieties surrounding space and the terrible fathomless beyond, at least for a while. But now his nightmares more often than not feature the harrowing terror of losing Peter, having to leave him and return to Earth without him. It’s jarring and painful and he wakes up choking and terrified and it doesn’t help that Peter isn’t physically there with him to soothe his subconscious.</p><p>The bed in his room at the Avengers Facility is soft, much softer than their little cot on Nebula’s stolen spaceship but it may as well have been a bed of needles with how he can’t find sleep in it. Not without Peter.</p><p>The only times he sees Peter is during their secret video calls or in his dreams. The latter feels so vivid that it feels just as real as the former, like he’s really seeing Peter get taken away right from his arms. He gasps awake calling Peter’s name, and he grabs the phone that he’s made a habit of keeping within reach on his bed, just to look at Peter’s last text good night, just to make sure that the dreams aren’t real, that Peter’s alive.</p><p><em>Peter’s safe,</em> he tells himself. <em>He’s safe.</em></p><p>--</p><p>With the major battle of what is now called the Infinity War having happened on Wakandan soil, King T’Challa leads the press conference at the UN summit in Geneva, elaborating on the events, parties involved, and motivations on each side.</p><p>Tony is there to report on what happened on Titan, and he keeps getting questions about what happened to the Stones. To absolutely no one’s surprise, more than a few member states are deeply interested in its potential use. Because countries getting a hold of weapons of mass destruction have always worked out <em>so</em> well in the past.</p><p>Tony says he doesn’t know where the stones are, which is the truth. The member state representatives aren’t impressed with that answer because let’s face it, it’s a rare thing for Tony Stark to not know anything, and if there really is something he doesn’t know, then you can be damn sure that he has a plan about it. Which would be correct, of course, but no one needs to know that, least of all greedy, short-sighted, likely-corrupt politicians.</p><p>All everyone needs to know is that the one Stone that was on Earth, the Mind Stone, is destroyed. There’s apprehension once again about Wanda’s powers, which in the past became the catalyst for the ill-conceived Sokovia Accords, now apparently reported to be powerful enough to destroy an Infinity Stone. But T’Challa plays down her involvement, citing Wakandan technology having played a more significant part (which it did, but more about prying it from Vision’s forehead, and not about the destruction of the stone itself, but hey, semantics).</p><p>On the bright side, the old Sokovia Accords have been functionally annulled. Tony and Rhodey were the only ones who actually signed the thing, and while participating in the Infinity War without official approval is grounds for sanctioning, there’s overwhelming public sentiment against punishing them over their involvement in saving the goddamn world. Unfortunately, politicians have a thing about control and not being in it, so it seems like there definitely will be some kind of restrictive document or other they’ll all be demanded to sign again sometime in the future, but that isn’t today and for now they have some time.</p><p>Tony evades every question about Spider-man with his usual arsenal of snark and charm. He lies and says his deployment of the Iron Spider parachute had successfully transported Spider-man back to Earth and that he wasn’t involved in the battle with Thanos. It seems to alleviate their interest in Spider-man for the moment, but Tony can see them noting him as another enhanced in the field with potential for use.</p><p>The Avengers have an internal meeting of their own afterwards at the hotel suite they’re put up in. It’s oddly tense. There seems to be a unanimous agreement to keep the band going in order to prevent and deal with any and inevitable future threats regardless of political and diplomatic meddling. But there’s the elephant in the room that nobody seems to want to address. Nobody except for Sam Wilson, apparently.</p><p>“So are mommy and daddy gonna get back together or are we splitting the kids up in the divorce again?” he asks dryly.</p><p>Steve doesn’t say anything. He just stands there looking at Tony from the corner of the room, arms slack beside him in a decidedly non threatening manner, but the way he maintains his solid stance beside Barnes says plenty. He’s not going anywhere. It’s Tony’s move apparently. Everyone seems to sense this since they’re all looking at him too.</p><p>Tony shrugs. “It’s so hard finding a good divorce lawyer these days. Guess you guys are stuck with me.”</p><p>“I still can’t believe you guys broke up in my absence,” Thor remarks. He had cut his hair and is sporting an eyepatch now, which Tony thinks makes him look like a fratboy dressing up as a pirate. “You really can’t function without a strong figure in the group, can you?”</p><p>“He is talking about Banner, right?” Sam stage-whispers to Wanda, who snorts.</p><p>“Well, the remaining stones are all off-world now and it seems like it’s going to stay that way for the time being,” Steve says. “But we need to start thinking about fortification. Thanos was a big player. There’ll be a power vacuum. And we can’t rule out the possibility of someone close to him seeking revenge.”</p><p>He looks at Tony when he says that and Tony bristles. “Hey, I didn’t kill him.”</p><p>“But his killer is on Earth. And if I recall correctly, you helped her,” Steve points out. “I’m just saying, we need to be ready.”</p><p>He keeps looking at Tony, who just regards him back with impassive eyes and a shrug. “Okay. So what’s the plan, boss-man?”</p><p>Steve raises an eyebrow. “We thought <em>you’d</em> have some kind of plan already.”</p><p><em>‘We’? Who the hell is ‘we’? </em>Tony thinks. Out loud, he says, “Well, I kinda already did have a plan. Suit of armour around the world and all that. But that didn’t really fly with management. Were you hoping for something a bit more PG so as not to offend the good folks’ delicate sensibilities?”</p><p>“And that’s your only idea?” Steve has this really infuriating way of looking equal parts disappointed and self-righteous. It makes Tony want to act as difficult as possible.</p><p>“Well, no. But the fact that you’re so against it kinda makes me think it’s actually a pretty good idea.”</p><p>There’s groans all around and before things could devolve further, Vision speaks up. “Perhaps what we need at this juncture isn’t technologically innovative brute force, but a more subtle approach,” he suggests. The lack of Mind Stone on his forehead has made him a lot less purple and a lot more english professor, and Tony kinda wants to put him under a scanner to see what he’s made of now.</p><p>“Diplomacy’s not really our kind of thing though,” Bruce says.</p><p>“But espionage is,” Wanda points out. “Gathering intel.”</p><p>“Sure, if you wanna be boring about it,” Tony says. “You don’t want a force field around the planet? Fine. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. Get a jump on the threat before it hits our shores.”</p><p>“It’s a good idea, though. And we need to know who the big players are up there so we know who to keep an eye on,” Rhodey adds. “We gotta start considering sending people up there too, make connections. We don’t really have much in the way of intergalactic allies.”</p><p>Thor holds up a hand. “Um, hello.”</p><p>“It might not look it from your size, but you are still just one person, Thor,” Rhodey says. “I may not have been to space but I know it’s big. You can’t do it alone.”</p><p>“I might know someone. Or Fury does, anyway,” Natasha amends. “Might take a while for her to respond, but it’s a start. I can see if he can contact her.”</p><p>“Alright, you do that,” Steve says. “In the meantime, we’re all on research-mode. Nebula and the raccoon might also know a thing or two.”</p><p>“Are you heading back to Wakanda then?” Sam asks him.</p><p>Steve glances at Bucky, who’s been silent the entire meeting. “Yeah, at least until the trial. Princess Shuri still needs to prepare some things for her testimony too.”</p><p>They decide to wrap up after that, and as everyone begins to leave, Steve approaches Tony. “Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks.</p><p>Over Steve’s shoulder, Tony sees Bucky make his exit with everyone so it’s just him and the captain left in the room. “Sure. What’s up?”</p><p>“How’ve you been?”</p><p>“Awesome. Amazing. You?”</p><p>“Same.” Steve smiles. The golden scruff is a good look on him. Tony hates it. “I’m glad you weren’t alone up there. Must’ve been tough.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, Strange had his moments.”</p><p>“I meant with the Spider-man,” Steve says. “But it’s good that he’s not getting involved in all this. It’d be good to have some people out there, guys who aren’t tied up in all this government stuff.”</p><p>“Yeah that’s totally the reason why I did it.”</p><p>Steve is searching his eyes but Tony was practically raised with walls up around him and he doesn’t let the other man through. Finally Steve sighs. “Look, Tony. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I’m sorry I hurt you, that we couldn’t work it out before any of this happened. But I hope you know that I’m here if you need me.”</p><p>Tony wants to scoff. He wants to retort something sharp and snarky but there’s a lump in his throat blocking the way. Before he could come up with anything to say, Steve nods at him with a sad smile and leaves the room.</p><p>--</p><p>“You had <em>sex</em> with <em>Tony Stark?!</em>”</p><p>Peter makes agitated shushing sounds, looking around frantically to see if anyone overheard them. The Chinese restaurant they’re having lunch in is crowded and loud, though, and nobody seems to be paying them any attention.</p><p>“Ned. Could you maybe yell that a little louder?” Peter hisses. “I don’t think the Avengers heard you from upstate.”</p><p>“Sorry, sorry. I’m just …” Ned looks a little faint, if Peter’s being honest. More faint than when Peter told him he’s basically part of the Avengers. “I know I’ve given you a lot of shit about not dating, but I <em>never </em>would’ve guessed it was because you’re into-“</p><p>“Men?” Peter says wryly.</p><p>“<em>Iron</em> men,” Ned says with awe. “You really don’t do anything half-assed, do you?” He leans in with a deadly serious look on his face. “How was it?”</p><p>Peter blushes. “Seriously? I tell you I went to <em>outer space</em> and fought a genocidal alien with god-like powers and <em>that’s</em> what you’re fixating on?”</p><p>Ned just keeps looking at him expectantly.</p><p>“It was …” Peter feels his face grow warmer at the thought, mouth pulling up into an uncontrollable grin, and the words rush out of him as he says, “it was <em>really fucking good</em>.”</p><p>Ned legitimately squealed like a thirteen-year-old girl. “Holy shit. <em>Holy shit</em>. Dude, I thought being Spider-man was the coolest thing about you, now <em>this</em>? Holy shit, this is <em>huge</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s pretty huge alright,” Peter smirks.</p><p>Ned whistles. “So those sex tapes weren’t lying, huh?”</p><p>“I can confidently say that those sex tapes weren’t lying.”</p><p>“Holy shit,” Ned says again. “So what’s the deal now? Are you guys, like, boyfriends? Is Tony Stark legitimately your boyfriend right now?”</p><p>“It’s … complicated,” Peter hedges. “He’s kinda busy doing the whole Avengers and Stark Industries thing, and I’m trying to lay low about Spider-man. It’s just not a good time for either of us.”</p><p>“Oh. So you guys are on a break?”</p><p>“No, more like a long-distance relationship kind of thing. We’re just … keeping it on the DL for the moment.”</p><p>“Yeah, I get it,” Ned nods sagely. “I mean, it’s <em>Tony Stark</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Ned had been devastated when he saw Spider-man get sucked into outer space. Peter had face-timed him as soon as he got back, but with Ned starting freshman year at MIT, this was the first chance they had to really catch up.</p><p>“So you’re starting at NYU on Monday?” Ned asks.</p><p>Aunt May had been ecstatic when Peter had finally decided to give higher education a good old college try. It’s already well into the academic year and he didn’t really promise her anything, but as soon as he sent an inquiry NYU’s Department of Psychology, they emailed him back saying that they’d be “happy to make accommodations for late admission” because they’re "confident that someone who comes with such a glowing recommendation from their internship at Stark Industries would have no trouble at all fitting in.”</p><p>Peter wants to feel angry at the blatant nepotism but he can’t bring himself to make things any more difficult than they already are between him and Tony. At least it’s a sign that the other man is still looking out for him, that he still cares. He just has to make sure not to squander the opportunity.</p><p>“Yeah it’s gonna be crazy catching up on all the work. But, you know, I guess it’s good timing. Spider-man’s on a break. Me and Tony are on a break.”</p><p>“I thought you said you <em>weren’t</em> on a break.”</p><p>“Oh who am I kidding? We totally are,” Peter says glumly. It’s been almost a month since Peter and Tony last saw each other at the Avengers Facility. They speak on the phone whenever the other man has time, and they still text on and off. But mostly Peter sees Tony on the news reporting on the summit in Geneva or at press conferences. He misses Tony so much it feels like an actual hole in his chest.</p><p>Things are … not normal. Peter always needs a light on when he sleeps now, and he’s put a little reminder note next to his light switch so that Aunt May doesn’t come in and switch it off out of habit. On the rare occasions he does go out on patrol, he feels the darkness of the night sky like a salient weight on his back. The city lights don’t allow him to see the stars but he can feel them there watching him.</p><p>Every night he falls asleep imagining arms around his waist and soft lips against his neck, and every morning he wakes up, he reaches out for a warm body that’s not there. He misses Tony when he makes breakfast for Aunt May, he misses Tony when he’s taking notes during lectures, and he misses Tony when he’s swaying on the subway with a hundred other commuters, earphones in, blaring music he’s not really listening to.</p><p>He’s doing all these normal things, on Earth with all the normal people. But if he’s being perfectly honest, Peter felt more alive during those times in outer space with Tony than he ever has on Earth without him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm so happy that you guys liked the last chapter and that it was worth the wait! I know I did the boys dirty here in this chapter but worry not, we'll have them know each other even more biblically soon enough.</p><p>Looks like I can't keep up with the weekly posting anymore, folks. Work is just kicking my ass so righteously. I'm still committed to this though, especially if there's still interest. And hopefully it won't take too long to update now that I'm not distracted by my hubris of taking on a month-long writing festival. Who's genius idea was that anyway?</p><p>As usual, you know where to find me:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony and Peter struggle with their long-distance relationship. Meanwhile, Tony’s nightmares are getting worse and weirder.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
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  <em>It’s been … he doesn’t know how long. The days blur together into one extended cycle of working himself to the bone and passing out from exhaustion. She tells him to rest, take it easy. But he can’t. Not when he can still feel the phantom weight around his shoulders, of arms holding him so tight with terror, that voice pleading in his ear …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She tells him there was nothing more he could’ve done, that it isn’t his fault. But it is, though. It’s all his fault. The moment he stepped foot in that room and locked the door behind him, he sealed his fate. </em>
</p><p>I can’t go to Germany.</p><p>
  <em>He should’ve listened to him. He should’ve left well enough alone. He had gotten him hurt in Germany, then gotten him killed on Titan. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The others had avenged those who were lost, and it didn’t bring any of them back. But the others didn’t have his mind. His body may have failed him, wasted away in the darkness, but his mind is still sharp. He toils with his computers and his equations and his machines, running countless simulations. If anyone can bring him back, it’d be him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But he doesn’t find the answer in the dead hours of night, or at the bottom of the liquor bottles littering the workshop. It doesn’t make him feel better to throw things, break them in drunken rage, to hear things shatter and fall apart, like his heart and his life. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nights, weeks, months pass and he’s still gone.</em>
</p><p>Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.</p><p>
  <em>She tells him to let go. But he can’t. How can he?</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Tony has been staying at a hotel for the past couple of nights. He’s back in New York after a few days of meeting with the Stark Industries board of directors in Los Angeles and countless press conferences. He has a room at the Avengers Facility, but he doesn’t want to spend any more time there than he has to. The nightmares are worse there for some reason. There are nights he finds himself waking up with a jolt and rushing to the labs to work on … something. There’s something he desperately needed to work on, to get back what he lost. He just doesn’t know what it is.</p><p>Maybe it’s his sanity, that’s what he lost.</p><p>Maybe he should’ve taken up Rhodey’s offer to join him and the others, but he doesn’t really have the attention span for intel-gathering missions. He would’ve been perfectly fine holed up in the Facility’s laboratory brainstorming ideas with Banner, but the man is off in Utah of all places, meditating on his troubled relationship with his greener half.</p><p>He visited Wong in the New York Sanctum one time, inquiring on Strange’s whereabouts and possible intentions with the Stones, but he seemed just as in the dark about all that as Tony is. He has a plethora of data mined from the Mind Stone, and energy signature recordings from the other Stones, which is probably enough data to come up with some kind of instrument that could detect their presence when in close enough proximity. But there’s an unpredictability factor in the sentience of the Stones that he doesn’t quite understand just yet.</p><p>There’s also a part of him that feels deeply uneasy about pursuing the Infinity Stones. He might already be going mad, but that way even more madness lies.</p><p>Tony goes out onto the hotel room balcony. The weather’s starting to cool and the wind is bracing as it drags through his hair. It’s past midnight but the city is as awake and restless as he is, blinking lights up at him, car horns blaring in the distance echoing each other like lonely wolf howls.</p><p>He wonders what Peter is doing.</p><p>Peter would have started going to class at NYU by now, despite Tony’s not-so-subtle hints at nudging him towards MIT. On the one hand, it’s nice that Peter’s still living in the city and not all the way up at Cambridge. But on the other hand, it wouldn’t exactly be difficult for Tony to get a place up there to be near him if he were so inclined. And then there’s the third hand, in which none of this even matters because they’re not even <em>together </em>together, a decision whose merit he’s really starting to question.</p><p>The sleepless city lights cast a haze over the night sky like a security blanket, the feeling of safety it generates just as imaginary. Just because the stars are obscured from view, doesn’t mean they’re not still up there, a cautionary presence of potential danger.</p><p>Despite himself, Tony feels a defiant rush of bravura. He had faced the biggest threat to the galaxy and survived. He and Peter did. Are they not owed at least one good thing in their lives? Are they supposed to be hiding in fear from the trivial judgments of normal human <em>people</em> when they’ve faced someone like Thanos?</p><p>Tony’s phone vibrates, notifying him of an incoming text from Peter.</p><p>
  <em>Can’t sleep. You up?</em>
</p><p>The answer, of course, is always Peter. Tony may be a hollowed out shell of a man who’d be hard pressed to deserve some peace of mind, let alone any kind of actual happiness. But Peter is still so young, and his life is just beginning. Peter, who’s destined for great things and doesn’t need Tony and his cargo load of emotional baggage dragging him down. Peter, who deserves to have a partner who can take him out without worrying about predatory vultures with camera lenses circling them.</p><p>Tony probably shouldn’t bother him, let him live his life, but people have always said that he’s selfish. Might as well prove them all right.</p><p>--</p><p>Peter is tired. His eyes are burning from all the readings he’s done for the next day’s group discussion and he has class early in the morning, but he can’t sleep. He texts Tony to tell him so. He hates that he felt apprehensive about it. It’s something he should be allowed to do, right? After all they’ve been through, he should be able to text his … text Tony when he misses him, right?</p><p>Except Tony isn’t a fellow college freshman he can commiserate about school work with. The man is a founding member of the Avengers and owner of a billion-dollar multinational company. Even referring to him as his … boyfriend sounds incredibly juvenile and much too pedestrian for someone as extraordinary as Tony Stark, no matter how strongly Peter feels about him.</p><p>Peter’s phone lights up with an incoming call from Tony. He accepts it right away, the phone screen showing Tony in what looks like a hotel room, lit up in a soft, warm glow.</p><p>“Hey,” Peter breathes. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to how handsome Tony is, if his heart will ever stop skipping a beat whenever he sees him.</p><p>“Hi, Pete,” Tony answers. His voice is like the low rumble of an engine, soothing and steady. “Your spidey senses tingling or something?”</p><p>“Um. No. Why?”</p><p>Tony smiles, a gentle and affectionate thing that makes Peter want to smile too. “I got your text right as I was just thinking about you.”</p><p>“Yeah?” It’s embarrassing how pleased that makes Peter feel. “What kind of thoughts?”</p><p>“Nothing that warrants a higher than PG rating, I assure you.”</p><p>“We could fix that, if you want.”</p><p>Tony chuckles and the sound of it sends a shiver down Peter’s spine. “Oh, is that what this is? A booty call to help you sleep? Is that all I am to you, Parker?”</p><p>“You’re everything to me, Stark,” Peter says honestly.</p><p>Tony lowers his gaze. Shit, apparently Peter is too exhausted to keep his usual brain-to-mouth filter activated. Maybe this was a bad idea.</p><p>Peter clears his throat. “You’re back in New York?”</p><p>“Yeah, just flew in on Friday night. How was your weekend?”</p><p>“Uneventful. Who knew there was so much reading in college?”</p><p>Tony snorts. “That’s what you get for getting into Psychology of all things. If you had just gone to MIT, you’d be blowing stuff up by now.”</p><p>“Pfft I could blow stuff up anytime in your lab. I could probably learn a lot more there with you than at any college.”</p><p>“Hmm, that reminds me. I gotta rescue DUM-E from the Avengers Facility and into the new place.”</p><p>Peter frowns. “I still don’t get why you’re moving out. Wouldn’t it be nice there with everyone back?”</p><p>“Probably. If they were actually there. The place is empty more often than not. Don’t let the media fool you. Even in our heyday we never actually had those movie nights and brunch parties.”</p><p>“Damn. There goes all my incentive for joining the Avengers.” Peter grins. “You know, if no one’s gonna be there to help you move, I know someone hearty and good-looking with a talent for heavy lifting.”</p><p>Tony quirks a smile. “As tempting as it is to watch you lug around a bunch of heavy boxes – preferably shirtless – there is such as a thing as movers for hire.”</p><p>“Yeah, but <em>I </em>wouldn’t require payment.” Peter smirks. “At least not with money.”</p><p>Tony laughs. “What kind of pornos have you been watching?”</p><p>Peter widens his eyes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have never watched pornography, ever, in my life.”</p><p>“Not even ones that star yours truly?”</p><p>“Leaked sex tapes don’t count as porn.”</p><p>“So you <em>have</em> watched them.”</p><p>Peter’s traitorous face grows warm, and from the smug look Tony gives him, the blush he’s sporting must be visible even through the phone’s camera.</p><p>“Hmm, yes. Pure as the driven snow, you are.” Tony lowers his voice to an exaggeratedly sultry gravel. “So what are you wearing, baby?”</p><p>Peter hums thoughtfully. “This old t-shirt. And some panties.”</p><p>Tony blinks. “Seriously?”</p><p>“No!” Peter laughs.</p><p>“Damn, Pete. Why you gotta tease an old man like this?” Tony grumbles.</p><p>“That’s something you’d be into?” Peter asks tentatively. “Me, wearing panties?”</p><p>“That gorgeous ass of yours wrapped in something tiny and soft and satiny? Hell, yeah I’d be into it. Is that something <em>you’d</em> be into?”</p><p>Peter feels his blush deepen. “I think so. I’ve thought about it sometimes.”</p><p>“Yeah? What do you think about?” The lower register of Tony’s voice sounds genuinely desirous by now, sending a spark of arousal down Peter’s lower belly.</p><p>“I imagine how soft it’d feel on my skin.” Peter squirms, reaching down to fondle himself through his boxers. Is he really going to be telling Tony about all this? But the way the man is looking at him, brown eyes all bare with wonder and desire, makes him feel bold and wanted. “I imagine going out, wearing them under my normal clothes. No one would know I have them on. It’ll be my little secret.”</p><p>“Hmm, so innocent on the outside, but they don’t know what a filthy fucking tease you are.”</p><p>Something about the way Tony says it gets him so hot and he grips himself a little tighter. Tony’s so larger than life, so far beyond his league. The man could have anyone he wants but for some reason, he’s talking to plain old Peter Parker. Peter wants to be good for him, wants to be worthy of that attention.</p><p>“I bet it’d feel nice to touch myself in them,” Peter says, noting the way Tony’s breath hitches at that, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. He can see Tony’s shoulder shift and he asks, “are you touching yourself?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony breathes, his arm moving slightly as though he’s slowly palming at something just below the camera’s view. “Can’t help it, baby. You have no idea what you do to me.”</p><p>“Show me.” Peter’s own boldness is surprising even to himself, but there’s a heady rush of power coursing through him at the thought of making someone like Tony Stark sound like that. “Show me what I do to you.”</p><p>Tony smirks. “Tit for tat, baby. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”</p><p>Peter huffs. “You first.”</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes good-naturedly but he shifts on the bed anyway, leaning back on the pillows and angling the camera so it pans down his body. His sleep shirt is riding up slightly, showing off his toned lower stomach, the trail of dark hairs leading down to where he’s bare from the waist down, holding himself in a loose grip.</p><p>“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Peter sighs at the sight. Tony’s cock looks hard and heavy between his legs and Peter’s mouth waters, hand squeezing himself tighter, imagining the solid weight of that cock on his tongue, his lips wrapped around the hole-splitting girth of it.</p><p>Tony lifts the camera up to his face, taking away the view of that glorious cock. “Uh-uh. Slow your roll there, sweetheart. It’s your turn now.”</p><p>Peter lets out a disgruntled whine, quickly shoving his boxers down and taking himself in hand while he aims the camera with his other.</p><p>“There you go. There’s my pretty baby boy,” Tony groans, gazing hard at him. “You wanna show me how you’d touch yourself? Spread your legs a little, show me how good it feels.”</p><p>Peter does as he’s told, arching his back, fucking up into his own wrist. Tony’s low, seductive voice feels like a palpable caress on his skin, heated and eager, and Peter moans at the phantom touch. “Oh God, it’s so good. Fuck, Tony, I need you.”</p><p>“Yeah? What do you need me for, baby? Talk to me. Tell me what you think about.”</p><p>Peter whimpers, pumping his dick faster. “I think about you. I always think about you when I touch myself. I think about how your lips taste, how it’d feel to have you inside me, filling me up so good, hitting it so deep, how it feels when you touch me – <em>ngh</em> – all hard and tight, holding me like you want me.”</p><p>“It’s ‘cause I do, baby,” Tony says breathlessly, eyes dark and intense. “I always want you. Never wanted anyone as much as I want you. You have no idea how badly I wanna be inside you. Bet you’d be so warm and snug for me.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>God</em>,” Peter gasps, pleasure shooting through him at Tony’s words, at the way the other man is in turn pleasuring himself while looking at Peter like he’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He fucks up into his grip as he imagines taking Tony’s large cock inside him, having that mouthwatering weight sinking into him, opening him up, reaching places no one’s ever reached before.</p><p>“I wanna see you come all over yourself, baby. Wanna see you get that tight body all dirtied up. Will you do that for me, Pete?”</p><p>Peter grunts, stroking himself furiously. “Oh fuck. Anything, Tony. I’ll do anything for you.”</p><p>“Do it, then. Come for me.”</p><p>Peter cries out as he jerks himself off the edge and into the crashing waves of a toe-curling orgasm, panting, gasping, spilling hot and white all over his stomach.</p><p>Tony groans at the sight, turning over, positioning himself so that he’s on his knees, hovering over his phone which must be lying propped up on a pillow with the way Tony’s looming over it. With Peter flat on his back, still holding his phone over himself, it almost feels like Tony is straddling him, jerking off right over his face.</p><p>“God, you look gorgeous like that, baby,” Tony growls, stroking himself faster, gazing down at Peter with lust-hooded eyes. “Those big eyes, looking up at me like that. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”</p><p>“Let me see you come,” Peter begs, still breathing hard. “Please, Tony. I wanna see it.”</p><p>Tony hisses, hand moving faster between his legs. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Pete. The way you look right now. Goddamn, I wanna mark you up, come all over you, make you all mine.”</p><p>“I’ll let you,” Peter breathes, mesmerized at the way Tony looks, all flushed and high with desire. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Come on my face, Tony. Let me taste you.”</p><p>“Oh <em>fuck!</em>” Tony is unbelievably beautiful in his climax, mouth parted in a choked out groan, eyes fluttering in wild bliss. Peter drinks in the sight greedily, still hardly believing that he has the privilege to see Tony like this.</p><p>Tony huffs, collapsing onto the mattress and bringing up his phone to peer into it. “Jesus fuck, I nearly jizzed all over my screen. Where the hell did you learn to talk like that, Mr. I’ve-never-watched-pornography-ever-in-my-life?”</p><p>Peter giggles. “That may have been a slight exaggeration.”</p><p>“Gee, ya think?” Tony laughs weakly. He smiles softly at Peter through the phone. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>Peter stretches languidly on his bed, letting out a pleased moan. “Relaxed. That was really good.”</p><p>“You think you’d be able to sleep now? You got class tomorrow, right?”</p><p>Peter’s stomach gives a bit of a childish flutter at the thought that Tony has his schedule memorized. Maybe it’s the post-orgasm high drenching his neurons in all the happy hormones, but Peter feels a breathless sort of pleasure-pain clenching somewhere beneath his sternum and he knows without an iota of doubt that he’s beyond saving now when it comes to Tony. He’s gone for the man.</p><p>The distance between them is killing him, though. Peter meant it when he said he would wait for him for however long it takes. He would do anything for him. Tony is worth it. But he misses the man something terrible, his sure touch, his fervent kisses, the way his broad body engulfs Peter’s more slender one as they lie in bed together. Maybe it’s selfish, but he always wants more when it comes to Tony.</p><p>“Yeah. I should probably get some sleep,” Peter says regretfully.</p><p>“Alright,” Tony says with a gentle smile. “Good night, Peter. Sweet dreams.”</p><p>“Good night, Tony,” Peter replies. <em>I love you</em>.</p><p>--</p><p>Walking into the lecture hall for his afternoon class, Peter finds a group of his classmates huddling in front of a laptop that’s streaming a news feed reporting on the outcome of Bucky Barnes’s trial.</p><p>Peter can hear the voice of the news anchor through the laptop’s tinny speakers. “-Buchanan Barnes is declared not guilty on a variety of different crimes, including multiple accounts of murder, insurrection, and treason. The defence expert witness claimed that James Barnes was unable to register his acts as the so-called ‘Winter Soldier’ on grounds of insanity or mental disorder under the effects of Hydra’s psychological experimentation. The defence included testimonies from-“</p><p>“What is that, though? Some kind of cognitive recalibration? Hypnosis?” one of the students mutters. “How would they even get that far? Like, if it’s true, that’s way more than just coercive persuasion.”</p><p>“It’s Hydra, man. Bet they have all kinds of fucked up shit going on. Have you read the stuff they did in Sokovia a couple years ago?”</p><p>“Where’d you read that? You sure that’s not a bunch of sensationalist bullshit? Wouldn’t be the first time the Avengers covered up some-”</p><p>Peter slips out of the lecture hall and takes out his phone as the small crowd watching the news continue to discuss among themselves.</p><p>Dialling Tony’s number, the man picks up almost right away, sounding weary. “Hey, Pe- Hey.” He clears his throat. “Listen, now’s not really a good time-”</p><p>“I just saw. On the news,” Peter blurts out. “About the trial verdict?”</p><p>“Yeah I know. That’s sort of why I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of a meeting about it.”</p><p>“Oh. You mean, you and-”</p><p>“-the Avengers. World Security Council. Yeah, pretty much.”</p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Hey, it’s alright. You know I’d rather be talking to you. But unfortunately, I gotta do this so-”</p><p>“Yeah, no, of course. I’ll, uh, talk to you later I guess.”</p><p>Tony hangs up with an abrupt beeping sound and it’s so unpleasantly jarring that Peter is left frowning down at his phone.</p><p>Class is just starting by the time Peter slips quietly back into the lecture hall. He finds a seat somewhere near the back and takes out his notes, trying to direct his concentration to what the professor is saying. He finds his thoughts constantly straying to Tony, though. He knows that it’s irrational to feel a little jilted at the dismissal. Tony’s world is much bigger than his, filled with much more important things that require the man’s attention, and Peter is just … a distraction at best and a nuisance at worst.</p><p>Maybe Aunt May was right. How did he ever think that mere feelings – however requited they may be – would be enough to maintain a relationship, especially with someone as larger than life as Tony Stark? She’s already been giving him non-verbally loud i-told-you-so vibes ever since he told her that he and Tony weren’t going to be seeing much of each other for the moment. Being around her is getting awkward and uncomfortable because of it so he’s thankful for small mercies that he has schoolwork to escape to.</p><p>Something he really should be paying attention to at present.</p><p>Halfway through the lecture though, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he can’t hold himself back from taking a look.</p><p>It’s a text from Tony.</p><p>
  <em>Well he’s officially an Avenger now and will be back on American soil soon</em>
</p><p>No need to clarify on who ‘he’ is. Peter immediately types back a reply.</p><p>
  <em>Oh wow. Just like that?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just like that</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’ll even be cleared to go on missions soon</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He and Steve are probably gonna be constantly joined at the hip. Among other things</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you okay?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Doesn’t really matter. I don’t do the smallfry shit. I tell them to call me if and only if there’s something major going on</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the meantime, they can spend my money however they like</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know. Like a sugar daddy</em>
</p><p>Humour as a coping mechanism. The topic was brought up in one of Peter’s group discussions just the other day.</p><p>
  <em>Sorry I couldn’t take your call earlier</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No, I totally get it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is big deal stuff</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m headed straight into another meeting after this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who the hell decided that I’d be the Avengers spokesperson anyway? Do people even know me??</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s probably cause you’re the best</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please. Have you heard cap make a speech? He’d have you all inspired and saluting the flag in two seconds</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s an image thing. I think maybe some people still think he’s some kind of traitor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s all still a bit confusing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The only thing everyone knows for sure is that you’re the one who’s always been here</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re the hero everyone can count on</em>
</p><p>Minutes pass and Tony doesn’t reply.</p><p>Peter nearly jumps out of his seat when he looks up and notices the professor looking right at him with an expectant expression, but he exhales in relief when he realizes that she’s actually looking past him to the student speaking behind him.</p><p>“-of inferiority is like, innate in everyone. But then if you add the later theories of social comparison on top of that, self-evaluating against other people can also lead to the neuroses and secondary feelings of inferiority originally mentioned by Adler.”</p><p>The professor hums. “That is a good point. Though the distinctions Adler makes between primary and secondary feelings of inferiority is more to do with-“</p><p>It’s not that Peter is feeling inadequate, really. But he just doesn’t know how to be that person for Tony. He wants to be, though. God, does he want to be. He wants to be the one Tony calls when he needs someone to talk to. He wants to <em>be there</em> for him, not just as distant moral support, but to be there for him physically, to hold his hand and stand tall next to him, to show him – and the world – that Tony Stark is not alone, that he’ll never be alone and that nothing will ever touch him or hurt him for as long as Peter is alive.</p><p>
  <em>Sorry, Pete. Meeting’s starting</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll talk to  you soon</em>
</p><p>If only Peter were enough.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>The late afternoon sun rays reflect off the gentle ripples of the lake’s surface. He can still hear the chatter of the guests somewhere behind him, the dearly few and beloved who have gathered there that day to witness him moving on, letting go. He feels their relief behind their words of congratulations, unaware of the heavy guilt that still gnaws at him every second of every day.</em>
</p><p><em>It doesn’t seem right to feel happy. How is it fair that he gets to walk away and hide under the shelter of evergreen trees when </em>he’s <em>gone? Why is the world still capable of spinning even without him in it? Why is he allowed to move on?</em></p><p>
  <em>She looks radiant in white, her hair like soft flames on her crown, her blue eyes are tender in kind understanding. She takes his hand and the steady grip of her fingers grounds him in a world where he feels like he could disintegrate with the weight of his grief. He’ll never forget, not completely. And he’ll never forgive himself, it’s just not in his nature. But she takes his hand anyway and knows this is as far as he’s capable of going.</em>
</p><p>I miss you, Peter, <em>he thinks as he lets her lead him away.</em></p><p>Tony wakes up crying in a dark, empty room, with silent tears streaming down his face. It all feels too frighteningly real. The mourning and guilt that haunt his dreams feel just as tangible even when he’s awake and it terrifies him.</p><p>His phone tells him it’s 3am but he calls him anyway with trembling hands.</p><p>“Tony?” Peter’s voice is small and sleepy when he picks up, but the sound of it sends a wave of calm coursing through Tony’s body and he sighs in shuddering relief. His ragged breath must have alerted Peter because he sounds more awake when he says, “Tony? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nightmare.” Tony lies back on his pillows with his eyes closed and listens to Peter’s breath on the other line, imagining that he’s there with him, that he could hold him and feel him there, real and alive.</p><p>“It’s getting worse, huh?”</p><p>“It’s getting … real. I don’t know if they’re just dreams anymore. I’ve had nightmares. Always had them. But nothing like this.”</p><p>“What are they about?”</p><p>“You,” Tony whispers. “You being … You were gone.” God, he can’t even say it.</p><p>“I’m here, Tony. It’s not real.”</p><p>Tony exhales shakily. “I know, but … it <em>feels</em> real. It feels too real.” It wasn’t just the heart-shattering grief he felt at losing Peter. There was also that overwhelming sense of guilt of moving on from it and that feeling was more terrifying than the loss itself. It made the loss feel all too permanent and undeniable.</p><p>“Do you wanna turn on the video? Some visual input might help ground you.”</p><p>Tony sighs. “It’s 3am, Pete. I shouldn’t even be bothering you.”</p><p>“Well, it might be for selfish reasons. I wanna see you too.”</p><p>Peter’s too good for him. Even now when he’s disrupted the younger man’s much-needed rest to deal with Tony’s increasingly unsettling issues, Peter’s still willing to hold on, to offer a helping hand. And Tony’s just selfish enough to let him.</p><p>Tony turns on the light on his bedside, casting the room in a dim, golden glow. Turning on the video shows Peter lying in bed with his phone propped up beside him, looking soft and sleepy and so ethereally beautiful that Tony’s heart hurts from missing him so much.</p><p>Tony lies on his side too, facing his phone, so that it feels like they’re lying in bed next to each other.</p><p>“Hi,” Peter says, smiling.</p><p>“Hey there,” Tony says. “You look sleepy.”</p><p>“I am. But this is nice. Feels like you’re really here.”</p><p>Tony wants to reach through the phone and run his fingers through Peter’s hair, brush the stray brown curls away from his forehead. He wants to pull him in, kiss those soft lips, and feel his heart beat, steady and reassuring through his chest.</p><p>“Do you wanna talk about it?” Peter asks.</p><p>“Not really. It’s not real. I just want to forget about it.”</p><p>“Okay. Do you wanna hear about my dream?”</p><p>“Was it a bad dream?”</p><p>Peter hums. “No. It was kinda nice.”</p><p>“Tell me about it.”</p><p>“We were back in Berlin. Not on a mission this time. Just … hanging out.”</p><p>“Were you the one showing me around? You were pretty well acquainted with the Berlin night-life as I recall.”</p><p>“Did Happy tell you about that? I only went out for a little bit. Anyway. We were just having a nice dinner in my dream. Dinner date. All romantic and such.”</p><p>“Sounds nice.”</p><p>“It really was.” Peter smiles dreamily. “Then there was like this giant sandcastle monster attacking the city and we had to go fight it. And I was like, ‘but wait, we just posted on Instagram that we’re having a dinner date here. And suddenly Iron Man and Spider-man happen to be here too??’ But then you were like, ‘don’t worry Pete, I made us some stealth suits’. And so basically we fought the monster while completely invisible. It was really cool.” Despite his obvious sleepiness, Peter still manages to sound excited about the idea.</p><p>Tony chuckles. “Invisible stealth suits, huh? That’s actually a pretty cool idea. We should make some.”</p><p>“Yeah? That’s awesome.” Peter smiles, his dark brown eyes blinking slowly, lidded and drowsy.</p><p>“You should sleep, Pete.”</p><p>“Can we sleep like this, with the phone on? I like being able to hear you.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p>“Wish you were here.” Peter yawns, snuggling deeper into his pillow. Tony would sell everything he owns to be able to hold him right then. All the cars in the world, the overpriced artwork, all of Stark Industries assets, the Avengers - he’d trade it all just to have Peter sleeping in his arms.</p><p>“I know, baby.”</p><p>Tony doesn’t manage to fall asleep. It’s probably creepy, but he spends the rest of the night watching Peter sleep through the phone, just thinking. It would be so nice to make Peter’s dream come true. Not the monster part, obviously. But the part where they can go out, travel, have dinner dates like a normal couple. He’d take Peter anywhere he wants to go, he’d only need to say the word.</p><p>But Tony just needs to be worthy of him first.</p><p>--</p><p>“There he is! Mr. Genius Handy-man! Come to look for more spaceships to wreck?”</p><p>In all of Tony’s wildest imaginings of extraterrestrial life, he never would’ve expected there to be a snarky talking raccoon who also happened to be an expert mechanic currently eating popcorn while sitting on the couch in the Avengers Facility common room watching Scooby Doo on their flat screen TV. And that’s only slightly less weird than a sentient adolescent <em>tree</em> sitting with his feet up on the sofa completely engrossed in some kind of video game console.</p><p>Nebula smacked the raccoon upside the head and admonished, “he got us here, didn’t he? He did a fine job.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Tony says emphatically. “Is Wanda around?”</p><p>“I think she’s in the library,” Nebula says.</p><p>“Fine job, my ass,” Rocket mutters, one hand rubbing the spot on his head where Nebula hit him while the other hand continues to shovel popcorn into his mouth. “He completely uprooted the Necrocraft’s exhaust system and fried the inner caulking. You guys are lucky to be alive. Gonna be weeks before I get that tin can up and running again.”</p><p>“Hey. Freeloaders don’t get to complain,” Tony says, pointing a stern finger at the raccoon as he makes his way to the library.</p><p>The room isn’t so much a library as a meeting room with some comfortable couches and a bookshelf. It’s all done up in dark wood panelling with one side of the room made up of wall-to-ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard, so it has a cozy yet professional sort of feel. Wanda is curled up in one of the couches with a book.</p><p>“Hey,” Tony says, coming to sit on the armchair opposite her. “Where’s the English professor?”</p><p>Wanda looks up. “He’s out grocery shopping with Sam.”</p><p>“It’s his turn to do the chores, huh.”</p><p>“Not really. He wants to learn to cook and Sam insists on showing him the proper way to make a cubano.”</p><p>“Would’ve thought you guys’d be relaxing on your down time between missions.”</p><p>“Cooking <em>is </em>relaxing for them. But not for me, clearly,” Wanda says, gesturing to her book.</p><p>“The Alchemist, huh?” Tony says, peering at the cover. “A bit dry.”</p><p>“As the desert it’s set in,” Wanda agrees. “Compelling, though.”</p><p>“If you say so.” Tony clears his throat. “Speaking of prophetic dreams…”</p><p>“You said in your texts you were having nightmares?” Wanda asks, marking her place in the book and placing it on the side table.</p><p>“That’s the thing, though. I’m not sure they’re entirely nightmares. I know what nightmares feel like. These don’t have that hazy, mind-numbing terror you get with nightmares when you’re in them, you know?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m familiar with nightmares,” Wanda says grimly, shifting in her seat. She regards Tony with thoughtful concern. “So what do they feel like? Have you experienced something similar?”</p><p>Tony hesitates. “That’s kind of why I’m talking to you about it. Remember way back when you were working with von Strucker? And you did something to us, made us see things?”</p><p>“I remember.”</p><p>“It’s not <em>exactly </em>like that, but … really similar. It feels like … like it’s telling me something.”</p><p>Wanda considers this quietly, drumming her fingers where it rests on the sofa’s arm. “You think they are visions?”</p><p>“I don’t know. In these dreams, I see someone dead. Someone I care about. Someone who’s still alive. And what I felt in these dreams wasn’t fear. It was more like … defeat. Failure.”</p><p>“What I did to you in Sokovia - to you and the others - I didn’t just bring forth your deep fears. I tapped into your insecurities, whatever secret thing that lies in all of us that makes us feel isolated from the people around us. The point was to try and drive a wedge between all of you. Tear the group apart.” Wanda gives him a wry smile.</p><p>“Heh. Yeah. And it almost worked too, though not right away.”</p><p>“You don’t have to remind me of my part in breaking up the Avengers,” Wanda says self-deprecatingly.</p><p>Tony winces apologetically. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Wanda’s eyes are sharp and knowing as she gazes at him. “I saw what you saw back then. The deaths of your friends, the regret. It seems to be a recurring issue with you.”</p><p>“Yeah, I have issues. This isn’t exactly breaking news,” Tony grumbles.</p><p>“But what I did all those years ago, I didn’t impart visions on you. The things you saw, they aren’t … telling you anything. Nothing prophetic in nature. They are just things that already exist within your subconscious.” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe what you need is therapy.”</p><p>Tony snorts. “I definitely do need therapy. But what if this is something else?”</p><p>“What are you worried about?”</p><p>“That I’m compromised, somehow?” Tony admits. “Could someone – or <em>something</em> – be doing this to me? I swear to God these aren’t just normal nightmares. I can feel it.”</p><p>“I can check, if you want?” Wanda offers. “I’ll need to look into your head, so to speak. See if there are any energy signatures that are influencing your synapses.”</p><p>“You’re gonna read my mind?” Tony asks warily.</p><p>Wanda smirks. “You have something to hide, Tony Stark?”</p><p>“Everybody has something to hide.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t dig too deep. Just enough to see if there are traces of any external interference.”</p><p>Tony fidgets. “Okay. What do I do?”</p><p>Wanda moves to stand behind Tony’s armchair, slim fingers lightly hovering over his temple. “Just relax. Try and think about your last nightmare.”</p><p>Tony closes his eyes and tries to remember what he saw. That cabin by the lake that he’s never seen before but looks exceedingly familiar. That odd feeling of guilt and resignation …</p><p>Then there’s a jolt, a sharp spark of electricity, and suddenly it’s like multiple tabs are opening at once behind his eyes, scenes playing out in warp speed.</p><p>
  <em>Late nights to early mornings in the workshop, surrounded by holographic schematics, lost in thought, wondering where he went wrong, wondering how he could fix it. Seething moments of frustration, throwing things across the room in rage, hating so much that he’s alive when so many are lost.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter’s frown of concentration as they work together on Nebula’s metal plating. His smile when Tony praises him, his blush when Tony touches him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slow-dancing with Pepper in an unfamiliar living room, his hands covering hers as they rest on her lower stomach. Laughter and rapid puttering footsteps of little feet, chasing a blur of long dark brown hair around the backyard. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kissing Peter under a fur blanket in a rattling spaceship, spilling pleasure in his soft, clever hands. Counting the steady beats of Peter’s heart as they sleep tangled in each other, pressed close from head to toe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Glancing at that photo of him and Peter above the sink as he washes the dishes and still feeling that loss pierce through him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kissing Peter for the last time on that hospital bed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter’s soft lips.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter’s beautiful, brown eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter’s laugh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter.</em>
</p><p>The pressure releases and he gasps back into the present like breaking the water’s surface after being held down underwater.</p><p>Wanda’s peering at him with concern. “Are you alright?” she asks.</p><p>“Other than feeling like I just got lobotomized? Yeah. Peachy.”</p><p>Figuring Tony must not be that bad if he’s capable of making jokes, Wanda huffs a sigh of relief and returns to sit across him on the sofa.</p><p>“What the hell did you do?” Tony asks, rubbing his eyes.</p><p>“I just went to look at what triggers your nightmares. I didn’t detect any evidence that you’re being brainwashed or otherwise manipulated.”</p><p>Tony slumps in his chair. “So it’s official then. I’ve finally cracked.” Looking at Wanda, though, it seems like there’s something more she isn’t saying. “What is it?” he asks.</p><p>Wanda looks uncertain. “It may be nothing. But I was getting a bit of a … a vibe.”</p><p>“A <em>vibe</em>?” Tony asks dubiously.</p><p>“When I was destroying the Mind Stone in Wakanda, I could feel it fighting back. It was a difficult feat. I could feel it reaching out, creating instabilities, something of a disorder in, like … the matter around us. It’s hard to explain.”</p><p>“So it <em>is</em> the Mind Stone that’s putting these nightmares in me?”</p><p>“No, I couldn’t detect any of the energy signatures around you, the Mind Stone’s or mine. This feeling … the same thing I was feeling when I was destroying the Mind Stone, it wasn’t even in your brainwaves. I felt it in the memories of your nightmares themselves. I am feeling <em>you</em> remembering these vibes.”</p><p>“But I have no idea what you’re talking about. How could I be remembering some weird <em>vibes</em>?”</p><p>“You might not realize that you’re feeling it. Genius as you may be, I don’t think you have my insight when it comes to picking up psychic energies.”</p><p>“Okay, this isn’t really going anywhere. I need something quantifiable. You wanna go down to the labs and take an fMRI with me? We’ll make a girls day of it.”</p><p>Wanda quirks a smile. “I can’t. Sorry. I’m claustrophobic. Besides, I don’t think something like this can be picked up by a standard scan. This is all very strange, Tony, but maybe these hoofbeats are just horses and not the zebras you keep insisting on.”</p><p>“You’re gonna Occam’s Razor me into going to therapy? That should be fun. I bet a ton of shrinks are just dying to put me on benzos.”</p><p>Wanda’s gaze is piercing and contemplative, and Tony is starting to strongly suspect that she can actually read his mind. “Or maybe your nightmares are already telling you what you need to do,” she says. “What’s his name?”</p><p>Tony exhales in resignation. “Peter. His name is Peter.”</p><p>“Peter. Kind of like my brother’s name,” Wanda says with a small smile. “You have strong feelings for him.”</p><p>“Yeah, about that. I thought you said you weren’t gonna be digging too deep into the brain matter.”</p><p>“I didn’t. He seems to be in the forefront of your mind despite your best efforts. And your feelings for him are deeply connected to your nightmares. There was no way you could’ve hidden him from me.”</p><p>“Okay, well. Then you know it’s all strictly off record. So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this.”</p><p>“Of course. But if I may ask, <em>why</em> is it strictly off record?”</p><p>“You saw him, right?”</p><p>“I saw someone you would kill and die to protect, someone you were willing to compromise your own happiness for if it meant keeping him safe. He could do much worse than you.”</p><p>“I’m not just me, though. I come with … all sorts of crap. Even the most stable, patient woman in the world couldn’t deal with my nonsense. And apparently the weird crap just keeps on coming.” Tony gestures at his head.</p><p>Wanda nods understandingly. “So naturally, the answer would be to push him away before either of you gets hurt”</p><p>“Exactly! You get it. And you know all too well that my hands are destroyer’s hands.”</p><p>“So are mine. But we try to be better everyday. And sometimes we have to stop being so afraid of sullying other people, and instead let them help wash the blood off our hands. And look at you now, coming to talk to me about all this instead of keeping it all inside. I know you’re doing this for him as much as you’re doing it for yourself, but it’s a good start.” Wanda gives him a sad smile. “If you ask me, life is much too short and fragile not to take whatever bit of happiness that comes your way. My parents are gone. So is my brother. For so long I was … incredibly angry and bitter. It was very isolating. So now I don’t take the love I feel for granted. And who knows, maybe allowing yourself to feel the love you obviously have for him will help ease the nightmares.”</p><p>Tony hums pensively. “Wise words. Vision’s a lucky mandroid.”</p><p>“He’d certainly say so,” Wanda says with a laugh. It’s not a sound Tony’s often heard from his serious team-mate and it makes him smile.</p><p>Aside from the retired and shockingly normal Clint Barton, Wanda and Vision seem to be the only ones in the group who could maintain a long-term relationship. If an android with a synthetic body and the result of Hydra human experimentation could make it work, then a billionaire with more issues than he’s got money and a super-powered spider mutant can too, right?</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>I miss you</em>
</p><p>It’s another late night. Tony has fully moved all his things into the new penthouse on the Upper West Side. His bedroom is still too orderly and unfamiliar and he’s blaming that for his restlessness (as though he’d sleep easily under usual circumstances).</p><p>
  <em>I miss you too</em>
</p><p>A few minutes after the reply, Peter calls him.</p><p>“Hey, Tony.” Peter looks bright and awake, his brown hair sticking up in soft, unruly tufts. He looks like he’s in his apartment’s kitchen, holding his phone up while he rummages through the refrigerator.</p><p>“What are you still doing up?”</p><p>“Just got back from patrol. It’s been awhile since I’ve gone.” Peter takes out a carton of orange juice and takes a long swig straight out of it. “Plus I don’t have any morning classes tomorrow and Aunt May’s out on a night shift, so I figured it was as good a time as any.” The camera shakes a little as Peter walks back to his bedroom and closes the door behind him. “What’s up?”</p><p>“So, uh, as per my last text…” Tony clears his throat.</p><p>Peter quirks a smile. “You miss me?”</p><p>“I do,” Tony admits. “You miss me too.”</p><p>“I do,” Peter echoes him.</p><p>Tony’s heart thuds and his face grows warm at the idea of exchanging those exact two words under entirely different circumstances, which is <em>so </em>not the kinds of thoughts he should be having right now. Not when they haven’t so much as gone on a single date.</p><p>“I miss you so much, I can barely concentrate on school,” Peter says. “And after all the trouble you went to get me in there too, I can’t be tarnishing the Stark good name by failing.”</p><p>“Can’t have that. Maybe I can help?”</p><p>Peter grins, stretching out on his bed. “Yeah? You wanna help me relax?”</p><p>Tony laughs at the implication. “I was thinking more along the lines of us going out somewhere sometime, maybe have dinner together. But sure, if that’s what you want.”</p><p>“Wait, what?” Peter sits up quickly. “Are you serious?”</p><p>“Yeah, why not? We’ve done phone sex before.”</p><p>Peter rolls his eyes. “Tony. I meant the date.”</p><p>Tony can’t help but smile at his eagerness. “I figure you’re right. There’s always going to be something - with the Avengers, with the company, with me in general. And I don’t want to put us on hold forever.”</p><p>Peter looks so happy, smiling so wide, Tony thinks the younger man’s about to start vibrating from excitement.</p><p>“It’s still going to be a crazy mess, though,” Tony warns. “You’re going to be in the public eye and there’s going to be … People are going to say things, and they’re not going to be all good. Very little of it is going to be good, actually, considering who I am and … how you are.”</p><p>Peter waves a hand dismissively. “Tony, I’ve been to space. I’ve faced off against a genocidal alien monster. I’m not afraid of a little gossip. Besides, the only people whose opinion I care about already know about us, so it doesn’t really matter. I want to be with you. Whatever that entails.”</p><p>Tony smiles. “I want to be with you too.”</p><p>--</p><p>Tony calls Pepper the next day. The woman has an impeccable morning routine and at this time he should be catching her at the office during her second cup of coffee of the day right before she starts catching up with emails.</p><p>Oddly enough, it takes more than five rings for her to pick up, almost sending him to voicemail.</p><p>“Tony, hi. Sorry. What’s going on?” She sounds a little breathless and her image on the screen looks more than slightly frazzled. Ever since the breakup, the conversations they have are almost always about work, and it’s always Pepper who’s the one calling him, never the other way around. She’s probably thinking there’s some kind of dire emergency.</p><p>“Hey, Pep. Nothing to worry about. I mean, maybe there is, I don’t know, you’re gonna have to tell me later if there is. But I don’t think so. At least-” Tony cuts off his own rambling when he hears what he thinks is the sound of a car door closing on Pepper’s end and he sees her sitting in the backseat of her town car. “Where are you going?” He looks at his watch. “Are you <em>just</em> leaving for work?”</p><p>“Yes, Tony. You caught me running a little late this morning,” Pepper says impatiently. “And you’re really not helping me have a good start to the day so just out with it. What’s going on?”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “Why Ms. Potts, I’ve never known you to be late a day in your life.”</p><p>“Tony.”</p><p>“Alright, alright.” Tony takes a deep breath. “I want to preface this by saying that this isn’t a big deal. Well, it <em>is </em>a big deal, but in like, a good way. What I mean is, in the way that you <em>wouldn’t </em>want it to be a big deal, it really isn’t. But in the way that you <em>would</em> want it to-”</p><p>“<em>Tony.</em>”</p><p>“I’m dating Peter Parker.”</p><p>Pepper’s image freezes in a frown.</p><p>“Pep?” Tony prompts. He taps the phone to see if it’s the connection that’s glitchy, but they’re still on the line.</p><p>“Peter Parker,” Pepper says finally, without inflection. “Peter Parker as in <em>Spider-man</em>, Peter Parker. That eighteen-year-old kid from Queens. <em>That</em> Peter Parker?”</p><p>“How many other Peter Parkers do we know?” Tony hedges, steeling himself for an irate outburst.</p><p>Astonishingly, Pepper laughs. As in, full on, no-holds-barred, breathless-to-the-point-of-asthmatic-wheezing kind of laughter.</p><p>Tony frowns. “I’m being serious.”</p><p>“No, no. I know,” Pepper says in between barely restrained giggles. “I know, Tony. That’s what makes this so-” and she starts laughing again.</p><p>“O-okay,” Tony says slowly. “So it’s not a big deal, right?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s a big deal, Tony. It’s a huge deal. And handling the media about this is going to be <em>really </em>annoying and not fun at all. But you know…” She chuckles. “I really gotta hand it to you. I really thought I’d done something crazy, but I should’ve known that you would one-up me even in this.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“You know Rafael Santino?”</p><p>“The tennis player?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“He’s like twenty-three or something!”</p><p>“And Peter’s eighteen! Plus, I’m three years younger than you so we kinda win on the age difference thing.”</p><p>“Holy shit.” Tony laughs. “Ms. Potts, you veritable cougar.”</p><p>“If I’m the pot, you’re the kettle,” Pepper shoots back defensively. She sighs. “I’m guessing it’s serious, then? This thing with you and Peter? That’s why you’re calling me?”</p><p>“Yeah. It’s for real, Pep. I mean, it’s Peter. I wouldn’t even consider it if it wasn’t. Is it serious with you and tennis boy?”</p><p>“His name’s Rafael,” Pepper says, but her voice is soft when she answers, “I think so. I mean, we’ve been keeping it hush hush to see if there’s, you know, something there before exposing it to the media craziness. I’ve been putting off going public with this, but I think we’ve reached the point where the next step in our relationship is finding out if it holds up under the pressure.”</p><p>“So what you’re saying is … by coming out with Peter, I’m actually doing you a favour here,” Tony says with a grin.</p><p>Pepper sniffs. “Historically, people don’t take too kindly on the idea of women taking on younger partners. Especially women in my position. <em>You</em>, however, are just a dime a dozen in the fountain of rich, old men dating younger people. So while your announcement might blow over much quicker, it  might just be scandalous enough while it’s broiling to overshadow mine.”</p><p>“Alright, deal,” Tony agrees. “But I don’t actually have to make an official announcement, right? Peter and I were kinda hoping to just do this organically. Go out some. Let ourselves be seen.”</p><p>“Yes, by all means. Just set up a date that gives me time to prepare the PR team for all this. And I’m guessing the Spider-man thing is still off the books? Unless you want my team involved, you have to tell him to be more vigilant about all that.”</p><p>“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I upgraded his suit already. No more changing in alleyways. And I’m already working on some stealth suits.”</p><p>“Okay, good to know.”</p><p>“Thanks for this, Pepper. And for everything. And hey, maybe we should take you out to dinner or something. Me and Peter, you and tennis boy. Make it a double date.”</p><p>Pepper snorts. “As long as you and Peter don’t get up to the same antics you and your old girlfriends used to get up to then that’s thanks enough. Just try and not to make my life too difficult, will you?”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “No, you’re already doing that to yourself.”</p><p>“I know, right? It’s crazy. What am I thinking?”</p><p>“You’ve always liked a challenge.”</p><p>Pepper laughs. The sound of it is lovely and free and he misses being able to make her laugh like that. Even before they started dating, Pepper had been one of his closest friends, one of the very few people who really know him and can stand to be around him. Maybe they were never meant to be romantic, but they’ll always have each other. She’ll always have his back.</p><p>“I’m happy for you, Pep,” Tony says sincerely.</p><p>Pepper’s smile is soft and genuine. “I’m happy for you too.”</p><p>And because Tony always has to ruin a sappy moment, he suddenly remembers, “wait, is <em>that</em> why you’re running late this morning? Were you and boytoy-”</p><p>“<em>Bye, Tony,</em>” she says before promptly hanging up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for sticking around patiently and big sorry for the delay. I had pretty bad stomach flu for a few days, then I was emotionally compromised from the whole Supernatural trainwreck. It was like an ugly breakup from an 8-year relationship. Painful, heartbreaking, with a lot of yelling. But anyway, I hope this slightly longer chapter with the bit of smut makes up for it. </p><p>Big thanks to blushing-starker on tumblr who very kindly consented to beta this and the remaining chapters.</p><p>if you wanna yell at me about stuff, i'm at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony and Peter finally go on that date. Then afterwards, Tony takes Peter back to his new penthouse for some long overdue quality time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Peter absolutely <em>does not</em> use his spidey agility to throw himself out the door as soon as he got the text from Tony announcing that he’s arrived, barely yelling out a “Bye, May, don’t wait up!” before doing so. He certainly <em>does not</em> sprint down the stairs of his apartment building because he was too impatient to wait for the slow, creaky elevator to take him to the ground floor.</p><p>He <em>may</em> have gotten the breath knocked out of him when he bursts through the building’s front door and sees Tony stepping out of his car looking like utter sex on legs with his dark wool coat, fitted jeans, and signature tinted sunglasses. His dark hair is styled in artful dishevelment, the sunlight bringing out the auburn undertones in it, and his beard is neatly trimmed, carving out that razor-sharp jawline.</p><p>Peter <em>definitely </em>launches himself at the older man, throwing his arms around him and holding him tight. “I missed you so much,” Peter mumbles in his ear. The solid feeling of Tony’s broad body in his arms and the clean, expensive scent of him send signals of <em>happy</em> and <em>love</em> and <em>home</em> through Peter’s brain.</p><p>Tony chuckles. “I missed you too, baby.” He presses a kiss to the side of Peter’s head, squeezing him once before holding him out by the shoulders to get a good look at him. Tony’s smile is as bright as sunshine, mirroring Peter’s own as they just stare at each other for a good few seconds, revelling in this moment that they’re finally together again.</p><p>They move as one, meeting in the middle as their lips touch, falling into a kiss that’s as natural as breathing. Peter’s only dimly aware that they’re still standing on the sidewalk, in plain view of anyone with eyes or a camera phone, but he doesn’t care. Nothing in the world matters but the way Tony’s lips move against his, and Tony’s hands around his waist, pulling him in closer.</p><p>“Hmm, I missed that too,” Tony murmurs, nipping lightly at Peter’s bottom lip. “Are you sure you don’t want to just head back to my place?”</p><p>Peter’s tempted, he’s not gonna lie. But … “I had a whole thing planned out.”</p><p>“Alright, fine,” Tony concedes, pulling back to drop a light kiss on the tip of Peter’s nose. He glances up towards the apartment building. “Is your aunt home? Should I go up and say hi?”</p><p>Peter considers it for a moment but he doesn’t feel like going through the whole shovel talk song and dance with Aunt May. “Nah, maybe next time. I want you all to myself today.”</p><p>Peter climbs in the passenger seat of Tony’s car when the man opens the door for him. It’s a dark grey Audi R8, which is still pretty ostentatious despite Peter’s instructions to keep it casual and low-key for the day, but knowing Tony’s collection, it’s probably about as modest as it can go.</p><p>Tony barks out a laugh when Peter announces that he’s taking him mini-golfing.</p><p>“Well, points for originality, I guess,” he says with a chuckle as he drives them to Pier 25. “Never had a date take me mini-golfing before.”</p><p>Peter shrugs. “You said you’ve never gone. You’re the one who gave me the idea.” But he’s smiling as he says it, feeling happy that he can surprise the other man like that.</p><p>The mini golf course is a cute little place by the pier overlooking the Hudson River, with families and their excited, noisy kids milling about, but surprisingly not that crowded. Peter insists on paying for the twenty dollar admission fee for the both of them. It’s a beautiful sunny day despite the cold breeze, and Tony’s hand feels warm in his as they walk hand-in-hand through the park’s entrance.</p><p>The 18-hole obstacle course isn’t very complicated and both Peter and Tony have too much knowledge of physics and geometry for it to prove much of a challenge. But Peter’s extra strength gets away from him sometimes and he often putts the ball a little harder than he intends, throwing his calculations way off. And it’s not like Peter is<em> at all </em>competitive, he’s complaining about it only mildly, but Tony still laughs at his antics, fondness clear in his face.</p><p>“Alright, alright. I get it,” Tony teases. “You don’t gotta keep throwing your shots. No need to pretend that you suck at this.”</p><p>Peter protests, “I’m not-”</p><p>“You want me to come over there and give you some pointers, is that it?” Tony asks, mischief twinkling in his eyes. He sidles up to Peter and stands close behind him. As in <em>real close</em>, draping his front over Peter’s back, chin over his shoulder, arms coming around to grip over Peter’s hands around the bright red putter.</p><p>“Oh,” Peter breathes, feeling the older man’s body slot perfectly against his, flush from chest to hip. “Yeah. Totally.”</p><p>“Just gotta relax baby. Trust me, I’m good at putting stuff in holes.”</p><p>Peter wants to roll his eyes at the remark, but Tony is murmuring very close to his ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin of his nape. It sends a shiver down Peter’s spine, and the area between his legs is rapidly doing the opposite of relaxing.</p><p>Tony’s voice continues to rumble softly behind him. “Just loosen up your shoulders, visualize where you want it to go, and just…”</p><p>Peter leans into it when Tony gently putts the ball forward and it bounces neatly off a statue of a plastic frog and into the hole.</p><p>“See? Nothing to it,” Tony says. He doesn’t pull away and instead trails his hands up to Peter’s hips. “You just needed some guidance is all.”</p><p>Peter smirks, pushing his ass back ever so slightly against Tony’s groin. “Oh, I can feel your ‘guidance’ alright.”</p><p>“Why, Mr. Parker, this is a family joint,” Tony says with a low baritone voice, nipping lightly at Peter’s earlobe.</p><p>Peter turns in Tony’s arms and kisses him as hard as he can get away with in public and the possible vicinity of impressionable kids. What a novel thing, to be able to make out with one’s boyfriend under the shade of wind-swept trees in a park by the river, just like normal people do. They could probably stand like that forever if it weren’t for the sound of obnoxious throat-clearing coming from behind them.</p><p>“Are you guys done?” It’s a pair of tweens glaring at them with impatient and unimpressed looks.</p><p>“Yeah. Sorry. It’s all yours,” Peter says, and he and Tony giggle as they make their way hand-in-hand to the next hole.</p><p>--</p><p>Peter lets Tony decide on dinner and the man drives them to a fancy-looking place on Central Park South where Peter balks.</p><p>“Tony, no. I’m not dressed for this,” Peter protests, tugging at his sweater over t-shirt-and-jeans combo.</p><p>Tony gestures to his own outfit with a raised eyebrow, but the difference is, his version of t-shirt and jeans is clearly some overpriced designer nonsense while Peter’s dressed in hand-me-down chic. “Relax, Pete, you’re with me. What are they gonna do, turn you away?”</p><p>“Um, <em>yes</em>?” Peter exclaims like it’s obvious. He follows Tony out of the car and watches him toss the keys and a charming grin to the waiting valet.</p><p>Tony puts an arm around Peter’s shoulders as they walk the short distance of the sidewalk up to the restaurant entrance under a dark blue awning. “That’s what you get for not wearing the stuff I got you for your birthday. Have you even worn them?”</p><p>“I was saving them for a special occasion.”</p><p>“And our first date isn’t a special occasion?” Tony rests a faux-offended hand on his chest. To the hostess at the reception he says, “table for Stark.”</p><p>The hostess’s eyes widen marginally in recognition upon seeing Tony and her eyes slide over to Peter, who gives her an awkward smile. “Of course, sir. Right this way,” she says, taking two menus and leading them into the dining area, seating them at a table tucked in an intimate corner.</p><p>“We only went mini-golfing today. I didn’t think I had to dress fancy for that. I thought we were going to keep it low-key,” Peter grumbles, taking a seat and looking around. The place looks sophisticated and trendy, all white table-cloths and chandeliers and abstract art pieces adorning the walls. It’s packed with people who are just as sophisticated and trendy, conversing lightly between goblets of wine. Peter feels stupendously out of place.</p><p>“This <em>is</em> low-key,” Tony insists. “I could’ve taken you to Masa or La Bernardin. I think I should be commended for having this much restraint.”</p><p>Peter hums, unimpressed. He picks up the menu and cringes at the price tag. Forty bucks for a pasta dish?</p><p>“Don’t go bursting an aneurysm,” Tony says. Peter looks up and sees the older man watching him with amusement. “Have whatever you want. What sounds good?”</p><p>“Um, I don’t know. I’ve never had a lot of the seafood stuff, like the scallops, and … grilled octopus?” Peter narrows his eyes dubiously at the menu .</p><p>Tony hums in consideration. “Well, now we’re definitely getting those. Why don’t we order some things for the table, that way we can both try some of each.” He calls over their server and starts rattling off their order, articulating around the Italian words with a fluent familiarity that sounds so attractive in his deep voice that Peter almost wishes they had gone straight home so Tony could whisper indecent Italian in his ear while they do unfit-for-public stuff.</p><p>Tony orders a beer and glances at Peter, who tells their server, “same” with a bright smile. Tony raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t say anything and neither does their server. Peter wonders what else he can get away with as Tony’s plus-one.</p><p>“Aren’t you gonna be driving?” Peter asks.</p><p>“It’s just one beer.” Tony shrugs. “Besides, that’s what the self-driving feature is for. Are <em>you</em> gonna be okay?” He asks with a teasing grin.</p><p>“I’ve had alcohol before.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. The infamous high school parties.”</p><p>“My metabolism never lets me stay drunk for too long though,” Peter admits. “I think I’d have to like, continuously chug entire vodka bottles to maintain it.”</p><p>“Hmm, I smell an interesting and possibly irresponsible science experiment.”</p><p>Peter laughs. “I’ve always wondered what else this body can do.”</p><p>Tony’s lips twitch into a barely restrained smile at the implication. “I’d be perfectly happy to help you find out.”</p><p>Peter snorts. “I meant with my spidey abilities.”</p><p>“Still not making it any cleaner there, sweetheart,” Tony says, smirking. “I mean, we both know how flexible you are already with all your aerial gymnastics. We could probably test that flexibility further.” His eyes are playful, but there’s a bit of hunger and anticipation as well, and it makes Peter’s stomach flutter and swoop like inebriated butterflies.</p><p>“Tonight?” Peter asks hopefully.</p><p>“If you want.”</p><p>“I do want.” Peter smiles bashfully. It feels unexpectedly strange, to be sitting there in a high end restaurant with Tony on what is essentially their first date. He feels oddly shy despite having been through so many things already with the other man.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing. It’s just … It’s weird. Feels like we’ve been doing all this backwards. I mean, we’ve been, um, <em>intimate</em> long before this. And not just intimate in the physical way, but also like, the near death stuff. I just feel … really close to you already. When usually the dinner and the date would be the first thing you do.”</p><p>Tony considers this. “Is that bad?”</p><p>“No,” Peter says quickly. “It’s not bad at all. It’s not one way or the other, I think. It’s just … I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before so I guess it’s not like I have any frame of reference. Being with you, it’s-” He grins at Tony. “It’s <em>awesome</em>. It’s nothing like I’ve ever imagined but also everything I could ever want, you know? It might be unconventional - in a <em>lot</em> of ways - but I kinda like that about us.”</p><p>Tony’s expression is tender and his smile is gentle as he takes Peter’s hand from across the table. Peter’s thumb brushes over the older man’s calloused knuckles, and he’s once again struck by how different the real Tony is compared to the persona everyone else sees. The Tony Stark that appears on TV or on stage oozes magnetism and charisma, dazzling in his brilliance and wit, invincible and unattainable. Meanwhile, the man sitting across Peter right now - while just as handsome and confident - has a softness, sincerity, and vulnerability to him that makes Peter fall even deeper in love.</p><p>Their food is served, and Tony can claim this place to be as casual and low-key as he wants, but in Peter’s mind, if the portions are small and laid out attractively on oversized white plates, then it’s a fancy restaurant. Fortunately, Tony orders enough food to properly fill the stomachs of two grown men, one of whom has the metabolism of a furnace.</p><p>The grilled octopus thing is surprisingly tasty despite its dubious appearance, with a bit of a spicy kick in the glaze and pickled red onion garnish. The pasta is - okay, <em>maybe </em>worth the forty bucks a plate with how creamy and delicious it is. Peter’s never had black truffle before and he thinks it might be his new favourite thing. The pan-seared dover sole has this buttery sauce on it that tastes amazing with the side of fresh, lemony arugula salad. It’s probably the best dinner Peter’s ever had.</p><p>Tony offers dessert and Peter orders the panna cotta while the other man gets the dark chocolate mousse. One bite of that silky smooth creme fraiche with the textured crunch of crushed walnut has Peter moaning probably a bit too obscenely, but it’s just too good. It’s a sweet, velvety melt in his mouth and he just wants to swim in a whole vat of it.</p><p>“Not that I’m not thoroughly enjoying the show, but would you like a moment alone with your new friend, there?” Tony asks, his eyes are amused but dark with heat.</p><p>Peter looks up at the other man while giving his spoon a long lick to get all the cream off. “It’s just so good,” he says with as much innocence as he can manage.</p><p>“Hmm,” Tony says, eyes fixated on Peter’s tongue on the utensil.</p><p>“Can I try some of yours?” Peter asks. Tony scoops a spoonful of his nondescript-looking chocolate dessert and holds it out towards him. Peter leans in and, holding eye contact the whole time, opens his mouth to take it in, tongueing the offered tip of chocolate mousse before closing his lips over the spoon. Peter can hear Tony’s breath hitch and he feels pleased at the reaction for a moment before the strong, cocoa flavour hits his tongue and he exclaims, “Oh God!”</p><p>“Alright, you fucking tease,” Tony grumbles, withdrawing the spoon and shifting visibly in his seat.</p><p>“No, I’m serious, that’s <em>so good</em>,” Peter says, licking his lips. The dessert is light in texture and rich in taste and he kind of wants another bite.</p><p>“So that’s my competition, huh? A chunk of chocolate pudding?”</p><p>“I don’t know, man. Unless you taste that good in my mouth…” Peter teases, leaning forward to steal another spoonful of Tony’s mousse and making a show of licking it off his spoon.</p><p>“Oh, you’re gonna get it now, Parker,” Tony growls.</p><p>“Promise?” Peter grins.</p><p>Tony settles the bill after they finish dessert, handing the server his card without so much as looking at it while simultaneously not allowing Peter to look at it either. The manager comes over to greet them with a smile, asking if their meal was to their liking.</p><p>“It was great. No complaints here,” Tony says cheerfully.</p><p>“That’s wonderful to hear!” the manager says. Her demeanour turns serious, however, when she says, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, but it appears that there is a group of photographers right outside the front entrance. We were wondering if perhaps you’d like to go out through the back door? We can have your car sent there.”</p><p>Peter feels a little stunned. Tony glances at him and must have caught his expression because he quickly says to the manager, “yeah, I think that’d be best.”</p><p>The manager nods. “Then whenever you’re ready, I can escort you out the back.”</p><p>“I think we’re ready now,” Tony says, looking at Peter, who nods in confirmation.</p><p>Tony takes Peter’s hand and doesn’t let go as they follow the manager through the restaurant, weaving their way between tables, through the bustling kitchen, and out the back entrance. Tony’s hold is confident and reassuring and just what Peter needs. It’s almost like he’s saying, <em>if they see us then this is how they see us, together, as a couple</em>. It’s possessive but protective at the same time, and Peter feels safe with his hand clasped in Tony’s like that, like he can take on whatever’s waiting for them out that door.</p><p>The back parking lot is empty and quiet when they’re ushered out the door and into the waiting car. Tony shakes hands with the manager and tips the valet before slipping into the driver seat. He turns to Peter beside him and asks, “you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter says, hoping to sound more composed than he feels. While they managed to get in the car safely enough, they still need to drive out of there, and that means passing by the street where all the photographers are apparently waiting.</p><p>Tony manoeuvres the car as quickly and efficiently as he can, but these photographers seem to have little regard to their own safety and approach way too close to the moving vehicle that Tony’s forced to slow down a little. There’s unintelligible yelling and flashing lights bursting through the windshield, almost blinding in their intensity. Peter tries to keep his head down at first. But cowering in his seat feels too much like cowardice so he lifts his gaze out the window defiantly and lets the intrusive lights illuminate and capture his face.</p><p>It’s done now, he supposes. Soon everyone is going to know who he is.</p><p>--</p><p>It wasn’t like it’s unexpected, to find paparazzi hanging outside the restaurant they were having dinner in. It was even part of the plan, right? Go out, let themselves be seen, make it official. But Tony knows that the <em>idea</em> of being in the public eye is a lot different than actually <em>living</em> it. He could see that despite Peter’s brave front, the younger man was still a little taken aback and shaken at the craziness.</p><p>Tony takes them back to his new penthouse. The Upper West Side apartment building is a lot more understated than Avengers Tower, but since he had purchased the entire property, Tony still has his own garage level for his cars and a private elevator that takes them straight to his apartment. Upon entering the expansive living space, Peter's eyes widen, letting out a soft “whoa”, and he strides over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to admire the view of the city at night.</p><p>Tony hangs back and shoots a quick text to Pepper, telling her to get ready for the news to break out on gossip channels, then turns off his phone. He doesn’t want to be interrupted for the rest of the night. F.R.I.D.A.Y. has been integrated to the place already and she’ll let him know if there are any emergencies.</p><p>Peter’s outline is silhouetted against the sea of lights beyond the glass. The city does look very nice from his window, but it has nothing on how beautiful Peter looks standing there in Tony’s apartment, like he’s the missing piece that would make this new, unfamiliar place a home.</p><p>Tony sidles up to slot himself against Peter’s back, hands coming up to his waist, kissing at the juncture where his graceful neck meets his shoulder. “Are you feeling alright?”</p><p>“Mm-hm,” Peter sighs in contentment, tilting his head to allow the older man access to nip at his throat, one hand coming up to sink in the short hairs at Tony’s nape. They stand like that for a while, swaying slightly against each other. Peter squirms in his arms, his hips shifting backwards, catching Tony starting to get hard in his jeans.</p><p>Peter shivers when Tony sucks on the dip of skin beneath his jaw before turning around, wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Peter’s lips are soft and lovely, opening up and welcoming him in with a quiet exhale like a flower in bloom. Tony can’t help but tighten his grip possessively on the younger man’s waist, slipping his hands lower over the swell of that gorgeous ass and grabbing two plush handfuls. Peter squeals a little at that but Tony can feel him smile against his lips.</p><p>Peter is light on his feet as he jumps and wraps his slender, athletic legs around Tony’s waist. Tony catches him easily, pinning him against the glass window, kissing him hard and filthy until the younger man all but melts under him. Tony’s thickening cock rubs against the snug space between Peter’s legs through the infuriating layers of clothing.</p><p>They’re much too high up for anyone to be able to look in through the windows, and the glass is blacked out for privacy. But the idea of having his way with Peter in front of the whole city, claiming Peter as undeniably, irrevocably <em>his</em>…</p><p>As much as Tony hates the thought of Peter being uncomfortable under all that public scrutiny, the cave-man part of his brain relishes the thought of everyone knowing that this beautiful, young man is with him, chose him, belongs to him.</p><p>Let them see. Let them all see how the great Tony Stark surrenders it all to this golden angel sighing with pleasure in his arms. And when Peter whispers, “take me to bed, Tony”, all sweet and bewitching, Tony is helpless from doing as he commands.</p><p>They don’t stop kissing as Tony carries Peter to his room, only bumping into the furniture once, giggling into each other’s mouths but never pulling far enough away. They undress each other quickly, impatiently, briefly getting distracted by each revealed expanse of bare skin, kissing and touching the whole time. Tony walks Peter until the younger man falls backwards onto his king bed.</p><p>Peter is a vision that could convert the holiest saint into sin with the way he looks, fully nude and deliciously hard, splayed out on Tony’s Egyptian cotton sheets like a carnal feast. He stretches his arms over his head, elongating his sculpted torso, and looking up at Tony with dark eyes and a lazy smile. “Your bed is so <em>soft</em>,” he says with a pleased hum.</p><p>Tony climbs on the bed, caging Peter in between his arms as he hovers over him. Peter’s eyes are wide and naked with desire, a pretty flush highlighting the arch of his cheekbones and the faint freckles across his nose. Tony cups Peter’s sharp jaw and traces a thumb over his thin lower lip, parting it slightly, and Peter darts out a playful tongue over the pad of it.</p><p>With a soft growl, Tony surges forward and kisses Peter, licking those intoxicating whimpers out of his mouth. Peter moans when Tony drags hot, open-mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his throat, legs falling open as he lets Tony slot their bare bodies together in a dirty grind.</p><p>“You’re so unbelievably beautiful, baby. God, the things I want to do to you,” Tony murmurs against Peter’s neck. The younger man has one hand buried in Tony’s hair and the other clutching at his back, hips bucking up to slide his hard, weeping cock against Tony’s own.</p><p>Tony moves his lips down Peter’s firm pectorals, flicking a tongue over the cherry-sweet nub of his nipples, cute little things that make Peter whine so beautifully when Tony suckles on them. Peter’s abs rise and fall with each heavy breath, trembling slightly as Tony kisses his way down to his flat stomach. He could spend hours mapping Peter’s glorious body with his mouth like this, explore every bit of unblemished land and claim it in his own name.</p><p>But Peter seems impatient if the way he’s writhing and bucking underneath him is any indication. Tony rubs soothing circles on the smooth skin of Peter’s inner thighs, right next to his no doubt aching hard-on, but never quite giving him the relief of direct contact on it.</p><p>With a final kiss right below his belly button, Tony looks up. “Peter, you’ve done this before, right?”</p><p>Peter’s eyes are hazy with arousal and he’s breathless when he answers, “yeah. With you.”</p><p>Tony raises an eyebrow. “We’ve never gone <em>all </em>the way,” he reminds him.</p><p>“Oh. Well. In that case. I guess … not?” Peter sounds insecure, looking down at him with uncertain eyes. “Is that, um, okay?”</p><p>Tony moves up and kisses him on the lips, soft and gentle, until he feels Peter relaxing under him. “Of course, it’s okay, baby. Something about being the first one you do this with … it’s kinda hot.” He kisses Peter some more, drawing out little moans with every slide of Tony’s tongue against his. “Look at you, all sweet and virginal.”</p><p>“Not a virgin,” Peter breathes, squirming under Tony’s filthy kisses. “Non-penetrative and oral sex is sex too.”</p><p>“Sure, if you say so. That still means you were a virgin back then when we first started doing stuff. Back when I was defiling you in the back of a rickety spaceship. And you’re still so, so sweet.” Tony leans over to grab the lube he keeps on his bedside.</p><p>Peter grins in anticipation. “You really like the idea of that, huh? Being my first? To be the only person who’s ever been inside me that way?”</p><p>Tony groans. “Gets me hotter than you’d ever believe, baby. But you’re not as innocent as you look, though, are you?” He coaxes Peter to spread his legs wider, trailing a hand up those creamy thighs until he reaches the intimate centre of him, rubbing his thumb across the furled hole. He flips the cap open and drizzles a bit of the slick on his fingers, spreading it around Peter’s quivering rim. “You ever had anything up there?”</p><p>“Um, just my fingers.”</p><p>“How many?”</p><p>“Two. I never really – <em>ngh</em>,” Peter moans as Tony slides in a single index finger in. “-last long enough to get any more in.”</p><p>Tony hums, thrusting his finger in and out slowly, savouring the warm, tight grip of it. “I’m gonna have fun opening you up, then. You’re gonna need more than two of your skinny little fingers stretching you out before you can take me.”</p><p>Peter moans at that. “Fuck, I can’t wait. Don’t think I can hold myself back, though.”</p><p>“You don’t have to, baby. Go ahead and come if you want to. Keen, young thing like, you? Bet you’ll get hard again for me, no problem.” Tony works another slick finger in, scissoring them to the music of Peter’s moans and whimpering. Peter gasps, upper body lifting in a graceful arch when Tony grazes against his prostate. “There it is. Why don’t you give me one before we get to the main event? I want you nice and relaxed when I push my dick into you.”</p><p>Peter is breathing hard and laboured as he writhes on the bed, pleasured little sounds wrung out of him with every thrust of Tony’s fingers against that sweet spot. Tony latches his mouth onto the narrow space between Peter’s balls and his hole, flicking his tongue at where Peter’s rim stretches around his fingers.</p><p>“Oh God, Tony,” Peter whimpers, grinding his pelvis down towards the other man. “Shit, I can’t-“</p><p>Tony nips and licks harder around Peter’s hole, the fingers inside him curling to rub incessantly at his prostate. Tony’s other hand cups Peter’s balls and strokes up the stiff shaft and that one sure touch is enough to send the younger man into a shuddering orgasm, spurting hot over his abdominals as he cries out Tony’s name.</p><p>Tony glances up at him, pleased at the way Peter looks all flushed and panting with stripes of cum decorating his stomach. Tony withdraws his fingers gently and drops an affectionate kiss to Peter’s inner thighs.</p><p>Peter watches him with hooded eyes as the older man leans up and licks up some of the cum on his stomach. “Holy fuck,” he breathes.</p><p>“Tastes sweet just like you, baby.” Tony grins.</p><p>“Fuckin’ liar,” Peter laughs.</p><p>Tony crawls up to hover over him. “Want a taste?”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Tony ducks his head and brushes his nose against Peter’s. “But what if I want to kiss you?”</p><p>Peter concedes with a slight tilt of his chin and Tony kisses him wet and open-mouthed, letting the younger man taste himself on Tony’s tongue. Peter moans at the sensation, grinding his hips up and making Tony aware of how hard he still is, how they both are.</p><p>“Gotta love that non-existent refractory period,” Tony teases, trailing down his still lube-slick hand to pull a few teasing strokes on Peter’s cum-splattered cock.</p><p>“I want you inside me,” Peter says, a slight pleading look in his brown eyes that Tony can never say no to.</p><p>Tony’s hand slips lower and pushes two fingers inside him again, still wet and a little loose despite the clenching orgasm. Peter moans at being filled again, spreading his legs to get those fingers deeper inside him.</p><p>“I think I’m gonna need to teach you a little patience. A little restraint,” Tony says, thrusting slowly. “What if I wanna edge you until you’re absolutely crying for me? How am I gonna do that if you come as soon as I touch you?”</p><p>“Mmm, I’m a fast learner,” Peter murmurs, squirming as he’s getting fingered. “You know that. You’ve been such a good mentor to me.” He looks up at the older man with wide eyes, looking somehow both innocent and teasing. “You’ll teach me, right? You’ll show me what to do, won’t you, Mr. Stark?”</p><p>Tony groans. “Oh, <em>fuck</em>, baby.” He gets another finger in Peter’s hole just to make him squeal for taunting him like that.</p><p>“Ohh, it feels so good, Mr. Stark,” Peter moans in his sweet, eager-to-please voice. And holy shit, how the fuck does Peter know exactly how to rile him up?</p><p>“God, Pete, you’re gonna give me a goddamn complex about that.”</p><p>“You don’t like it?”</p><p>“I fucking love it, baby. You can keep calling me that if you want, but I can’t hold back anymore.” Tony takes out his wet fingers and pats Peter’s flank. “Turn around. Let me see that ass up in the air for me.”</p><p>Peter scrambles to obey, good boy as he is, until he’s on all fours, head down between his elbows as he arches his back into a graceful curve, showing off the sexy little dimples at the base of his spine right about that gorgeous swell of his ass. Tony’s boy is so fucking beautiful all naked, willing, and dripping on his bed. Spreading Peter’s ass cheeks reveals that lovely, pink hole, and Tony thinks he’ll explode if he doesn’t get that wet grip wrapped around his cock right this second.</p><p>Peter moves his ass in an enticing little wiggle. “Fuck me, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>And oh, that’s it. Tony takes his raging hard cock in hand and guides it to Peter’s impatiently waiting hole, watching the slick rim yield to the pressure of Tony’s cockhead against it. Peter whimpers at the intrusion but he takes him in so good, slippery walls grasping Tony’s cock like a warm glove. Tony hisses at the sinfully hot tightness, but he forces himself to go slow.</p><p>Once he’s balls deep, Tony bends down and peppers loving kisses on Peter’s shoulders, nape, and back, his hands rub soothingly up and down his sides. “How are you feeling, baby?”</p><p>“Mngh, it’s so good, Tony. Fuck, you feel so big in me.” Peter moans as he shifts his hips and feels the thick shaft drag against his rim. “I feel so full- o<em>h God</em>-” He gasps as Tony starts moving his hips in languid thrusts, indulging in the hot, wet clutch of Peter’s body.</p><p>“Fuck, you’re so tight for me baby,” Tony grunts, fingers digging into Peter’s hips as he pulls the younger man on and off his cock, pounding into him a little faster. The sight of Peter’s virgin hole taking him in greedily, swallowing him over and over with every forward thrust, gets his engine going like nothing else. “Look at how pretty you are, taking me like a good boy, like good little slut.”</p><p>Peter moans at the praise, pushing his ass back, fucking himself on the cock moving relentlessly inside him, like he can’t get enough of it, like he can’t think of anything else when he’s hanging off Tony’s cock like that.</p><p>“Ohh, you like that, huh? You like being my good little slut? God, your first fuck and you’re already so hungry for it.” Tony shoves himself in harder, digging his cock in to the root, the skin of his hips slapping obscenely against the bounce of Peter’s plush ass.</p><p>Tony runs a hand up Peter’s back and buries his fingers in his curls, tugging slightly to get a look at his flushed face twisted in pleasure. Peter is biting his pink lower lip, muffling his whimpers, and that won’t do at all. Tony curls a hand under Peter’s jaw and grips it, tugging his mouth open.</p><p>“Don’t hold back, baby,” Tony growls in his ear. “Let it out. Let me hear you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.” He angles his hips so that he’s fucking right into Peter’s prostate and the younger man lets out a loud, high-pitched moan. “That’s it. Show me how much you like it. Let everyone hear that you’re mine.”</p><p>“I’m yours,” Peter sobs between choked out moans, rendered utterly shameless in his desire. “<em>Fuck</em>, Tony, keep fucking me. My hole is all yours."</p><p>Tony groans and pounds into Peter’s hole harder and faster, fucking deep into the delicious, vice-tight grip of it, punching out repeated fucked-out mewling sounds from Peter’s lips. It’s so wet, so tight, so good, Tony’s not going to last much longer, and from the erratic spasms of Peter’s channel around his cock, neither is Peter.</p><p>Tony reaches under him to fist at Peter’s throbbing, leaking cock. “I wanna feel you come on me. Let me feel you come and get all tight on me, baby. Can you do that for me?” Tony jerks him off with quick wet strokes and Peter cries out, whole body tensing as he’s hurled into the throes of orgasm.</p><p>“Oh, <em>fuck</em>. Tony, <em>I’m coming</em>!” Peter’s hole clenches to the pounding rhythm of his climax and Tony fucks him through it, prolonging his pleasure until he can’t hold himself back anymore. The perfect clutch of Peter’s hot body pulls at him until he’s coming with a low groan, spilling his load into the tight hole that’s milking him for all he’s worth, sparks of pleasure flaring through his body, rapturous as heaven and heated as hell.</p><p>Coming down from his high, Tony pants into Peter’s shoulder, breathing in the hazy, heady scent of their coupling. Peter is breathing just as heavily under him and Tony kisses him all over, picking up the faint taste of his sweat. Tony gently slips himself out of Peter’s sloppy hole and lies down on his back, pulling Peter to lay on his chest.</p><p>“That was awesome,” Peter says breathlessly.</p><p>Tony chuckles and presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead, brushing back the damp curls away from his face. “I didn’t hurt you?”</p><p>Peter shakes his head, nuzzling into the crook of Tony’s neck. “You can never hurt me.”</p><p>Tony holds him closer, their arms intertwined and legs tangling together, uncaring of the mess between them. Peter tilts his face up with a dopey smile, warm brown eyes shining with more affection than Tony could ever deserve. Tony kisses him.</p><p>Tony doesn’t think he’s ever kissed anyone the way he kisses Peter, with gentleness, with vulnerability, with love. He kisses Peter with everything he feels that he can’t yet say. He wants to say it. He does. It’s right there at the tip of his tongue, even as he slides it into Peter’s mouth. He hopes Peter can taste it, that he can feel it in the way Tony grips at him with quiet desperation. He hopes Peter knows how much he loves him.</p><p>They kiss and kiss and fall asleep in each other’s arms.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>Later that night</em>
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</p><p>Peter wakes suddenly, spidey-senses yanking him out of slumber into a state of complete alertness. The room is dark, only the faint moonlight illuminating the features of the sparse room through the gaps in the curtains. There’s no immediate threat as far as he could see, but then he hears a soft whine from beside him.</p><p>Tony is curled up facing him, clutching his pillow in a death grip. His brows are furrowed, eyelids squeezed tight, his chest is heaving under the drags of his ragged breaths, clearly trapped in the cold grasp of a nightmare.</p><p>“Tony,” Peter calls out softly, turning over and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. When Tony doesn’t jerk away or react badly to the touch, Peter runs a soothing hand into the older man’s hair, caressing his cheek, smoothing out the frown lines on his temple. Tony continues to make quiet, anguished noises in his sleep and Peter’s heart aches at the sight of his obvious distress.</p><p>Knowing that forcing Tony awake can potentially make things worse with how jarring it can be, he  slowly gathers Tony in his arms, pulling him close. He knows Tony can’t hurt him even if he does thrash out, and he hopes the embrace can provide some semblance of comfort to the older man’s subconscious.</p><p>“Peter…,” Tony whimpers into his chest, squirming in his hold a little, seemingly trying to burrow deeper into his arms.</p><p>“I’m here, Tony, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Peter makes soft shushing sounds, rubbing circles on the other man’s shoulders. He presses gentle kisses into Tony’s hair, wishing he could get into the other man’s head and physically fight away the nightmares that plague him.</p><p>Tony doesn’t wake up, but his breathing eventually evens out until he’s returned to snoring softly against Peter’s chest. Peter keeps holding him through the night, ready to protect him from anything that might rise up and cause him any kind of harm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can’t let you forget about Tony’s nightmares now, can I? You got your 6k of fluff and smut, now we’re back to plot (lol just kidding (sort of)). I didn’t expect the floofiness and the sex to take up so much word count so this is actually half of what I outlined for this chapter. For those who are dying to know what happens next, hopefully this little interlude isn’t too much of a snoozefest. I just thought the boys could use a little fun for a change. Let me know what you think! </p><p>Thank you again to blushing-starker for being such a dedicated beta.</p><p>And as always, if you wanna reach me elsewhere, I’m at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The morning after, where everyone knows about Tony and Peter’s relationship</p>
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</p><p>The next time Peter wakes, both the sun and Tony are already up. The bed is so comfortable, the silky sheets so soft and luxurious wrapped around his bare skin. Tony’s face is the first thing that comes into focus when Peter opens his eyes, looking incredibly beautiful and heartbreakingly soft in the hazy morning light that bathes the room. Peter wants to wake up to that sight for the rest of his life.</p><p>Tony smiles as he watches Peter wake. “Good morning, baby.”</p><p>“Anyone ever tell you it’s creepy to watch people sleep?” Peter asks, but he returns the other man’s smile as he says it.</p><p>“No,” Tony admits. “But I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in bed long enough to watch anyone sleep.”</p><p>“Must’ve been really boring.”</p><p>“Not even a little bit,” Tony brushes Peter’s hair away from his face and runs his thumb over Peter’s cheekbone. “I could probably look at you forever.”</p><p>Peter closes his eyes and leans into the touch. Tony’s hand is warm as it moves reverently across his skin. Those same hands that had reached deep inside him and drew out sensations he didn’t know he could feel that intensely, pleasure powerful enough that he could barely think of anything else. Hands that just last night gripped him tight with unbridled lust and rough with desire are now caressing him gently, lovingly, worshipfully. Tony lights up a heat in him that is at once simmering like ember and blazing like wildfire.</p><p>Peter shuffles forward and tucks himself in the circle of Tony’s arms, tangling their naked bodies together. It’s warm in his embrace. Safe. It’s a place Peter knows without a doubt he belongs. Tony presses kisses into his hair and Peter is so in love he could burn to ashes with it.</p><p>“We should probably get up at some point,” Tony murmurs in between kisses.</p><p>Peter makes a soft, protesting sound, snuffling into Tony’s chest and kissing the faded scars lining his sternum. Peter’s fingertips lightly trace the faintly raised ridges of skin. He’s heard stories of the miniaturized arc reactor that was embedded in Tony’s chest. He’s seen it only in photos, a circle of glowing blue over the electromagnets that had kept pieces of shrapnel from reaching Tony’s heart and killing him. What is that about him? Despite the armour he created to protect himself, Tony shone a beacon of light on exactly where to hit to hurt him.</p><p>Peter tilts his head up and sees Tony watching him with a carefully neutral expression. There’s so much soul in Tony’s brown eyes, though. It’s like the man can’t help but reveal everything through them. Maybe that's why he wears those tinted sunglasses all the time. Everything in his heart radiates through the vulnerable gaze of his eyes. Peter knows. He doesn’t need to hear it because he can see it without Tony ever needing to say it.</p><p>Peter leans up and kisses Tony on the lips, soft and gentle. <em>I love you too.</em></p><p>Drawing back, Peter reaches up and gently plays with the strands of grey peeking out of Tony’s dark hair. “I really like these,” he says. Tony’s hair is far from growing white, but there’s just enough specks of salt in the sea of pepper that it makes him look handsome and distinguished.</p><p>“Really? I’d usually have them dyed, but I haven’t had the chance since we got back.”</p><p>“Don’t. I like them. Looks really hot.”</p><p>Tony grins. “Got a thing for older men, huh?”</p><p>“No. I got a thing for you.” Peter doesn’t think he’s ever had a type before. There was never any list, but Tony somehow ticks all the boxes on it. Time has only made Tony even more handsome, the lines on his face tell stories of growth and wisdom instead of age. Tony frowns a little when Peter’s fingertips lightly touch the crow’s feet around his eyes. Peter smooths out the lines furrowing Tony’s forehead with the pad of his thumb and remembers what caused them to appear when the man was sleeping. “You had a nightmare last night.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony sighs. He takes Peter’s hand from his face and kisses the palm of it. “Did I scare you?”</p><p>“A little bit. I was more worried. I wished there was some way I could make it better.”</p><p>“I think just you being here helped. I remember the first time we slept together, in your tiny little bed. I didn’t have any nightmares at all that night.” Tony hesitates. “Have you been having nightmares too? Since we got back?”</p><p>“No more than usual. Nothing like what you seem to be having.”</p><p>Tony contemplates this pensively. “I think maybe it’s just my usual paranoia. Comes with the territory of getting close to someone.” He presses a final kiss to Peter’s knuckles and brings their clasped hands against his chest, right over his heart. “Being with you … I have a lot more to lose now and it- it scares me, I guess.”</p><p>“To the point where you’re having nightmares every night?”</p><p>“It doesn’t happen every night. Weirdly enough, I usually get them when I’m a bit more relaxed and rested. Like it’s easier for it to sneak up on me or something. That’s kind of why I like to tire myself out until I can barely keep my eyes open anymore. Then I can just pass out and be too out of it to have any kind of dreams.”</p><p>Peter frowns. “That can’t be healthy.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Pete. They’re just dreams. This, right here?” Tony pulls him close by the waist and kisses him. “You and me? This is what’s real.”</p><p>Peter wants to say something more, but the beguiling swipe of Tony’s tongue against his lower lip washes away any further thought that isn’t about kissing Tony deeper. Peter presses his whole body closer to the other man, letting out a soft moan when Tony slips his tongue in to slide against his. Peter is fully erect within seconds, grinding in little circles against Tony’s thick thigh.</p><p>Tony hauls him up and over until he’s lying straddled over the older man. Peter sinks his fingers into Tony’s hair as they continue to kiss, their hard cocks rubbing against one another in a delicious slide with every roll of his hips. Tony’s hand runs down the length of Peter’s back and dips into the cleft of his ass, index finger tracing over his furled entrance.</p><p>“Are you sore at all?” Tony murmurs.</p><p>Peter hums. “No. I was kinda sore right after. But, you know, rapid healing.” He licks teasingly at the slightly parted seam of Tony’s lips and smirks. “I guess you’re just gonna have to fuck me harder this time.”</p><p>Tony growls and grabs Peter’s ass, making him giggle. Peter sucks distracting kisses at Tony’s neck while the other man slicks his fingers up, gasping softly when a slippery finger pushes its way into his hole. Peter feels himself open up readily, taking in Tony’s probing fingers like his hole is just so eager to be filled once again.</p><p>A little impatiently, Peter sits up and lets Tony direct his lube-slick cock towards his hungry hole, sinking down on it with a breathy sigh. It’s <em>so good</em>. Peter thinks he can quickly get addicted to this feeling. Tony takes up so much space inside him, stretching him out and filling him up like the final puzzle piece that makes him whole. Complete.</p><p>“God, fuck. You’re still so tight for me, baby,” Tony groans, hands coming up to grip Peter’s thighs.</p><p>Peter rolls his hips experimentally, feeling Tony’s girth drag against his slick walls. He rapidly finds a rhythm he likes, undulating his pelvis and bouncing his ass on Tony’s lap. Peter rides Tony with increasingly vigorous movements, moaning and gasping in hitched breaths as he angles himself so Tony’s cock hits right at his sweet spot with every backward thrust.</p><p>Tony is panting beneath him, gazing up at him with lust-dilated eyes. Peter feels so powerful like this, having Tony Stark between his legs, giving him great pleasure as he takes the man’s cock inside him. There’s a possessive sort of urge rearing up in Peter, something he’s never felt so acutely before. He knows Tony’s had lovers before but he wants to be the best, hottest, tightest of them all. He wants to be his only and his last.</p><p>Peter throws his head back, sighing about how big Tony is, how he fills him up so fucking good. Tony praises him in turn, bucking his hips up even as Peter impales himself again and again on his cock. The sounds of their skin slapping lewdly with every thrust accompany their mixed cries of ecstasy as they climb over each other towards their climax.</p><p>Whatever control Peter felt he had from riding Tony, he quickly loses it as he succumbs to his pleasure, moving on instinct now, chasing the high he feels from the cock shifting in and out of him.</p><p>Peter reaches orgasm first, hard and sudden, moaning out Tony’s name in bliss, his inner walls pulsing over the man’s cock as he fucks himself on it with harsh, fast motions. Tony thrusts into him harder, fingers digging into the meat of his ass until he comes with a loud grunt and Peter feels him spurt wet and hot inside him.</p><p>Peter collapses onto Tony’s chest without dislodging the softening cock inside him, breathing hard into the man’s neck. Tony rubs a soothing hand up and down his sweaty back, kissing affectionately into his hair.</p><p><em>I love you, I love you, </em>Peter thinks as he closes his eyes in perfect contentment.</p><p>--</p><p>Peter sits at the breakfast bar in Tony’s kitchen, elbow propped up on the counter, resting his chin on his palm as he watches the older man prepare the breakfast he insisted on cooking himself. Tony is wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a thin, floral-print t-shirt that clings to the thick muscles of his back and arms. Peter can’t help but smile at the sight. Tony is humming to an old rock song Peter doesn’t recognize playing on the stereo, swaying his hips slightly to the beat. The mouth-watering smell of eggs and bacon fill the room, and Peter wants to record this domestic scene in his mind forever.</p><p>They eat breakfast together while they browse the internet for news about them. The only media outlets that could churn out information on them on such short notice are ones on the trashier side of the journalism tracks, the ones that don’t have much qualms when it comes to publishing wild, unsourced speculation.</p><p>Tony was right. Very little of what’s being said about them was good and only a few of them were neutral at best. It really goes to show the biases of modern society when a lot of the coverage focuses on Peter and frames him as some kind of devious social-climber seducing America’s beloved superhero back into his hedonistic ways.</p><p>Tony isn’t particularly happy about that, grumbling as he messages Pepper furiously to get her PR team on it. Peter, on the other hand, laughs himself stupid when one website, with incredible confidence, claims him to be an ‘aspiring model’ hoping to get a jump on fame by latching onto the one and only Tony Stark.</p><p>“Does this seriously not bother you?” Tony asks, his eyes full of concern. It’s sweet but Peter can honestly say that so far, none of what’s being said is bothering him very much. He’s just happy that no one’s making Tony out to be some kind of cradle-robbing creep.</p><p>Peter steps in the vee between Tony’s legs where he sits at the breakfast bar and twines his arms around the man’s neck. “It’s just words, Tony. Words that aren’t even true.”</p><p>“Slander is just words,” Tony points out. “And it can be seriously damaging.”</p><p>“Damaging to what? I was nobody. I never had much of a reputation to begin with. Can’t ruin what’s never there. I was more worried about you. <em>You’re </em>the one who had more to lose with this.”</p><p>Tony snorts. “Peter, I’m a white dude with a shit ton of money. Guys like me never lose,” he says wryly.</p><p>“Then we have nothing to worry about.” Peter brushes his nose against Tony’s, leaning in to kiss the other man softly on the lips.</p><p>“I don’t like people talking shit about you,” Tony says grimly, his hands gripping tightly on Peter’s waist.</p><p>“It’s not <em>all</em> shit, though is it?” Peter smirks. “Are you saying I <em>didn’t</em> use my wily charms to get into bed with you?” He runs a hand down Tony’s chest and palms at the bulge in his crotch through his sweatpants.</p><p>Tony huffs. “Can’t believe I ever thought you were an innocent little angel. Seems like those tabloids know you better than I do.” He groans as Peter coaxes him into hardness.</p><p>“Oh, but Mr. Stark, it’s a lifelong dream of mine to be a model,” Peter murmurs teasingly, dropping to his knees right there in the kitchen and running his hands up the older man’s thighs. “I would do <em>anything </em>to make it come true.”</p><p>Tony laughs but it quickly turns into an aroused moan as Peter mouths at his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. He takes out his cock and directs it into Peter’s wet, open mouth. “You better work for it then, baby.”</p><p>--</p><p>As soon as Tony steps foot in the common area of the Avengers’ living quarters, he’s accosted by Rhodey, looking stern and imposing with his arms crossed, levelling Tony with an unimpressed glare.</p><p>“You know, for some reason, I never thought you’d be <em>that </em>much of a cliché,” Rhodey remarks.</p><p>“Oh boy,” Tony mutters. He tries to escape to the kitchen, but Rhodey follows him there.</p><p>“Your little mid-life crisis splashed all over TMZ? I know you’re under a lot of stress but is this really the time?”</p><p>“It’s not like that, Rhodey.” Tony opens cabinets at random. He’s sure he left some packets of dried blueberries around here somewhere.</p><p>“Where did you even meet this kid, anyway? When you said you were too busy to go on missions with us, I thought you meant business with the company, not… clubbing with some twink. I thought you were over all of that.”</p><p>There it is, tucked behind a box of Sam’s organic Weetabix. Tony opens the packet of blueberries and pops a few in his mouth. “I haven’t stepped foot in a single club for possibly five years now. We went out to dinner. At a restaurant. Like civilized people.”</p><p>“Is this because Pepper started dating again? I just don’t think trying to compete with her in the boytoy-rebound department is really a good look on you.”</p><p>“<em>Neither</em> of us are on the rebound, Rhodes. Why are you obsessing? Relax about it.” Tony holds out the open packet to his friend, who takes a few of the offered blueberries.</p><p>“I’m just trying to look out for you, Tony. You haven’t really done all this since Pepper. If you’re not just messing around with this guy-”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“-then are you being careful? And I don’t just mean about the potential security risk of some rando having access to your life-”</p><p>“He’s not some rando.”</p><p>“-and all the sensitive tech and information you hold. But also about him having access to <em>you</em>. The you underneath… all of this.” Rhodey looks genuinely concerned. Tony would be kind of touched if he wasn’t so annoyed.</p><p>“Are you ... worried about me getting my heart broken or something?”</p><p>Natasha chooses that moment to walk in the kitchen and glances between the two of them with some amusement. “Oh, you started without me?” she asks Rhodey.</p><p>“Great. Are you two gonna double team me with the shovel talk?” Tony grumbles.</p><p>“I think Rhodey wants to give your <em>sugar baby</em> the shovel talk,” Natasha points out, hopping to sit on the counter and holding out a hand towards Tony, who rolls his eyes and passes her the blueberries.</p><p>“He’s <em>not</em> my-” Tony starts exasperatedly.</p><p>“We should get him to come to one of our meetings,” Natasha says between a mouthful of blueberries. “Get the team to vet him. Make sure he’s good enough for our Tony.”</p><p>“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Rhodey scolds her. “It’s one thing if this kid is just after his money. Then whatever, Tony’s got the stuff coming out of his ass.” Tony makes a face at that, but Rhodey barrels on. “But he doesn’t need the distraction right now, and for all we know, this kid could be using him to get sensitive information.”</p><p>“Okay. Rhodey. First of all, I don’t fall for honeypots. I can spot that shit a mile away-”</p><p>“You didn’t spot me,” Natasha says, holding up a hand.</p><p>Tony points a finger at her. “That doesn’t count. S.H.I.E.L.D. just sent you to keep an eye on me, not to get anything out of me. So to speak. I wouldn’t have given anything away.” To Rhodey, he continues, “And second, since when do you listen to anything Harvey Levin says? Peter’s not some gold-digger or a corporate spy or whatever the fuck nonsense he’s been spouting.” Rhodey opens his mouth to speak but Tony interrupts before he can say anything. “And <em>third</em>, you don’t need to worry about me. I know I don’t have a great track record with these things. But this thing with Peter … It’s the real deal. So, just lay off, alright?”</p><p>Natasha’s gaze on him is so sharp that he can feel it even when he’s not making eye contact with her. Tony knows that she won’t say anything about Peter’s superpowered alter ego if he doesn’t say anything first. It’s not Tony’s secret to tell, though, so he can deal with a little conjecture from his friends.</p><p>Sam pokes his head into the kitchen. “What are you guys doing? Meeting’s about to start.”</p><p>Tony crumples the empty packet of blueberries and tosses it into the bin. Natasha takes out a packet of cheese and olive rice crackers from one of the cabinets and tosses it at him, knowing that the man will need some kind of snack to get through a boring and potentially annoying Avengers meeting.</p><p>Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Vision are already seated around the table as the four of them enter the meeting room.</p><p>Tony drops himself onto the chair farthest from Steve and Bucky. “So how come Thor and Banner get to skip? Did Bruce write himself a doctor’s note or something? ‘Cause that’s cheating.”</p><p>“Thor’s got business in New Asgard and Bruce is still in Utah. He says he’s making some headway with his research, but can’t really give us a timeline on when he’d be back,” Natasha informs them.</p><p>“You know, I got all the toys Bruce could possibly need right here. Why does he have to go all the way out to the middle of mountainous nowhere?” Tony asks.</p><p>“<em>Because</em> it’s the middle of mountainous nowhere,” Natasha replies. “There’s no one around and … gamma radiation can be volatile.”</p><p>Tony hums. “That is <em>bleak</em>.”</p><p>Steve clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Thanks for coming, guys. I know we all have our own assignments and … other things going on in our lives.” He glances in Tony’s direction when says that and Tony crunches obnoxiously on his rice crackers. “But I appreciate you taking the time to just get each other up to speed. First, I think Rhodey’s got the most pressing news.”</p><p>“Yeah, so after the whole alien invasion, they’re really starting to pick up speed with the US Space Force,” Rhodey says, getting right to it.</p><p>“Still don’t like the name,” Tony mutters.</p><p>“The other UN member states are leaning towards forming something on a global level rather than leaving it to individual nations, but you know our Commander-in-Chief always wants to be the one with the biggest stick in the playground, and they’re looking for contractors to arm the military program.” Rhodey levels Tony with a pointed look.</p><p>“I don’t play with the DoD anymore, Rhodes. You know that.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I told them. But since your Aerospace Division has the most advanced satellites up there right now, you’re still their first choice with this despite you cutting all ties with them.” Addressing the rest of the team, Rhodey continues, “My point is though, even if Tony says no, then they’re just going to go with the next best thing. Hammer’s already sniffing around. Justine’s a lot more competent than her dad and has even looser morals. It’s not gonna end well.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to throw Tony to the sharks and compromise his principles, though,” Steve remarks. If he notices the rest of the team giving him variations of confused, surprised, and pleased looks then he doesn’t show it. He does, however, notice Tony narrow his eyes at him suspiciously. “What, do you <em>want</em> to be on the US government’s leash?” he asks Tony with a raised brow.</p><p>“Not even in a kinky way,” Tony replies.</p><p>“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Rhodey says, disgruntled. “I just think we should keep a close watch on the whole thing, at least. Get some eyes in there. Can’t be me, ‘cause they all know I’m tight with Tony.”</p><p>Steve nods. “I’ll talk to Fury about it. Knowing him, he’s probably already got some people in place.”</p><p>Tony slides his packet of rice crackers over to Steve, who looks at him with slight bewilderment. Next to him, Bucky smiles with quiet amusement.</p><p>“Speaking of Fury, any news on his contact, Nat?” Steve unwraps a rice cracker with slow, careful movements, trying not to make too much of a crackling noise from the wrapper as he speaks.</p><p>“Not yet,” Natasha answers. “Fury says she’ll probably be too busy to respond right away. Thor said he’s planning on going off world in the next month or so, though. He and Rocket and Groot are heading out to meet up with their crew. The ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’. Anyone ever heard of them?”</p><p>“That’s an impressive name,” Wanda comments. “Why aren’t we getting in contact with them?”</p><p>“Well, from what I can tell of Rocket’s reports, they’re not actually that impressive,” Natasha says wryly. “I mean, it could just be Rocket being Rocket, but he kept referring to their captain, Starlord, as – and I quote – ‘a giant mouth-breathing moron’.”</p><p>“Starlord?” Tony asks. “I met him. And yeah, I can vouch for the raccoon. He <em>is</em> a giant mouth-breathing moron. Him <em>and</em> his crew.”</p><p>“They were the ones with you when you fought Thanos on Titan?” Steve asks him.</p><p>“Yeah. Last I heard he was heading off to some planet where his girlfriend died.”</p><p>“Vormir. Yeah, that’s what Nebula said,” Natasha confirms.</p><p>“Is Nebula going with them?” Tony asks her.</p><p>“I’m not sure. Haven’t asked. I’m sure she’ll tell you if she were.”</p><p>On the other end of the table, the conversation has moved on to Wanda and Vision updating Sam on the investigation he sent them on, which apparently was a dead end.</p><p>“Hank wasn’t being very helpful at all. I don’t see why we should even bother,” Wanda grumbles with her arms crossed.</p><p>“It does feel like there are some things he isn’t telling us. He doesn’t seem to trust outsiders,” Vision admits. “But we really can’t do anything if they won’t give us all the information.”</p><p>“Scott was the one who called me about the break in,” Sam says to them. “Did he tell you anything more?”</p><p>Tony’s attention span is quickly deteriorating. He takes out his phone and shoots Peter a text.</p><p>
  <em>Do you think if I fake an anaphylactic reaction I could be excused from this meeting?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why am I even here? This entire thing could’ve been an email</em>
</p><p>Natasha nudges him with her elbow and he looks up to see her raise an eyebrow at him as Sam, Vision, and Wanda blather on in the background about the incident at the Pyms’ labs. Tony just shrugs and continues to text Peter. He doesn’t really expect the other man to reply since he’d be at school right now, but he just wants something to do with his hands.</p><p>
  <em>I bet you a thousand bucks my meeting is more boring than your classes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Doubt it. I’m here texting you, aren’t I?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How could a meeting with the Avengers be boring, anyway?</em>
</p><p>Tony smiles. It’s only been a few days since they last met but he misses Peter so much already.</p><p>
  <em>We’re dealing with a B&amp;E of all things like we’re some kind of beat cops</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, it can’t all be alien invasions all the time</em>
</p><p>Tony vaguely hears Natasha tell the team about Maria Hill wanting to know if she can update the Avengers’ on-call roster, but he looks up when he hears Bucky speak for the first time.</p><p>“I’m ready if they’ll have me.” Bucky’s gaze is steady as he answers Natasha. His expression is neutral.</p><p>Next to him, Steve nods. “Add us both in there.”</p><p>Natasha turns to Tony. “How ‘bout you?”</p><p>“Hmm, no thank you,” Tony replies, returning his attention to his phone.</p><p>“New boyfriend keeping you busy?” Sam retorts.</p><p>Tony throws him a dark look. “Unlike <em>some</em> people, I actually have a <em>day job</em> that’s keeping me busy.” Rhodey snorts at that but Tony ignores him. “Besides, I’m still working on the security alert system for the Stones’ energy signatures. You guys can handle the random robberies and terrorist attacks. Just call me for the defcon one stuff as per usual.”</p><p>“You’re still going after the Infinity Stones?” Steve asks, frowning.</p><p>“I was never ‘going after’ them,” Tony says, injecting as much sarcasm as he can into his air quotes. “But four out of six Infinity Stones managed to sneak their way into Earth at one point and put us all in danger. I just thought it would be nice if we could get a heads up next time.”</p><p>Steve is still looking at him with an irritating amount of concern.</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes. He leans over the table and snatches back the rice crackers from in front of Steve. “If I plan to make another super-bot, I’ll be sure to let you know,” he says sarcastically.</p><p>After a few more updates, they wrap up the meeting. Everyone else starts discussing what kind of take-out they should get delivered for dinner while Tony takes his leave. His phone vibrates and he opens it to some more texts from Peter.</p><p>
  <em>We’re still on for tomorrow, right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My last class will finish at 2pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll be there, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Can’t wait xx</em>
</p><p>Rhodey appears next to him and Tony quickly pockets his phone.</p><p>“Any chance I can hitch a ride back to the city?” Rhodey asks as they walk together down the hallway.</p><p>Tony fixes him with a shrewd gaze. “Alright,” he concedes. “But just know that I have an ejector installed in the passenger seat. Any comment, smart-ass remark, or even mention of Peter and-” He makes a whooshing noise while making an upward jerking motion with his thumb.</p><p>“Deal,” Rhodey says.</p><p>They walk together in silence for a few paces. Tony can feel his phone vibrating incoming texts in his pocket but he doesn’t look at it, not trusting Rhodey not to make a move and grab it out of his hands like the eight-year-old he knows his friend is.</p><p>“So that means I can talk about it now before we get into the car, right?” Rhodey says.</p><p>“Nope!” Tony picks up speed into a jog.</p><p>--</p><p>Peter hasn’t really made much in the way of friends in college and becoming the topic of gossip for the past week or so hasn’t really helped. He knows that everyone’s got his name in their mouths because his super hearing is capable of picking up on the conversations people have when he walks past, thinking that he can’t hear them. It’s weird having complete strangers knowing all these things about him.</p><p>He expected the shit-talking. It’s all written up in the tabloids after all, how Peter was an ‘intern’ at Stark Industries, how he lives in a not-so-great part of Queens, how NYU somehow allowed him to start his studies so late in the semester. Put all these things together and you get the assumption that Peter’s some hood rat who slept his way into getting accepted at a prestigious university.</p><p>And the disheartening part is, Peter isn’t completely sure that they’re wrong.</p><p>He would never have even been on Tony Stark’s radar if it weren’t for the Spider-man aka ‘Stark Internship’ thing. He never would’ve even been considered by <em>any</em> university if it weren’t for his connections with Tony. And Tony wouldn’t have helped him out with that if they weren’t in a relationship. Sure, most people probably think that he's <em>only</em> in it for the money and that he’s just using Tony, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. But it doesn’t make all the rest of it untrue.</p><p>Peter has grown up feeling more or less invisible, so feeling eyes on him wherever he goes is a little disconcerting, especially with how it sets off his spidey senses like all the time. He’s still nowhere near on Tony’s level when it comes to being stalked by the paparazzi, but he can still tell when someone’s trying to sneak a photo of him on the subway or something.</p><p>It’s nothing he can’t handle though. He can deal with a little shit-talking behind his back. Sticks and stones and all that. He had been worried about Aunt May at first, wondering if her friends would give her a hard time about having a gold-digger for a nephew, but his worries were unfounded. Aunt May had told him, laughing, about how she shut down one of the ladies at the nail salon for making snide comments about him <em>and </em>got all the nail technicians to back her up on it. You don’t really mess with Aunt May.</p><p>Still, so far no one’s had the balls to talk shit straight to Peter’s face. He’s had some people in his classes and discussion groups who seem genuinely curious about what Tony Stark is like and ask him about it, but it’s mostly just non-confrontational small talk. It’s not as if it’s a hardship at all for Peter to talk about how great Tony is.</p><p>And he’s not gonna lie, there’s an undeniable feeling of pride at knowing that Tony Stark is <em>his</em>, that so many people <em>know</em> that Tony Stark is his. There’s a shallow part of him that preens at the openly astonished looks on people’s faces when he talks about Tony with intimate familiarity.</p><p>He kind of enjoys the way the eyes feel on him when Tony picks Peter up from campus in a dark burgundy Maybach, idling in front of Washington Square Park. Tony leans over and kisses him as soon as he climbs in the passenger seat and Peter giddily wonders if people can see them through the windshield.</p><p>“How was class today, baby?” Tony asks, pulling out onto the main road.</p><p>“The usual. I had statistics all day so it was a bit boring. All I could think about was meeting you at the end of the day.”</p><p>Tony chuckles. “Oh, so I’m a distraction now?”</p><p>“A most terrible distraction,” Peter confirms. “You’re going to need to bribe the faculty to get me to pass.”</p><p>“Anything for my sugar baby,” Tony smirks. He presses a button on the steering wheel and it starts driving on its own while his chair moves back to give him some space. He pats his lap and turns to Peter. “Speaking of, how ‘bout you come over here and give me some of that sugar?”</p><p>Peter grins and clambers over to straddle Tony’s waist, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and kissing him hungrily. Five days is much too long to go without having Tony between his legs.  The car drives itself, weaving through traffic while Peter and Tony make out in the driver seat. The windows have probably blacked out to give them some privacy, but Peter finds himself not really caring if people can see. Tony Stark is <em>his</em> and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.</p><p>Peter’s brain is quickly on its way to turning into mush under the blissful haze of Tony’s kisses, at the feeling of the other man gradually growing hard under him.</p><p>Yet somehow his spidey senses still manage to push through the heady sensations and Peter moves purely on instinct when he sharply pulls away and slams a hand over the nanite housing on his chest. In an instant, the spidey suit has fully deployed, unfolding the waldoes that wrap around them both as Peter pulls Tony protectively against his chest.</p><p>Barely a second later, before either of them could react, something large slams into the side of the car, upending them as their vehicle flips on the road and lands upside down with a deafening crash.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dun-dun-duuuuun~</p><p>How’s that for a cliffhanger? And right before the holiday break too. I have impeccable timing. I’ll still try to get some writing done during this time but I’m not promising to get anything posted in under two weeks from now. Hope you guys have a wonderful and safe holidays and thank you so much for all your support and kind feedback. </p><p>To my lovely and most dedicated beta, blushing-starker aka Sophie, big thanks for all your amazing help. We’ve only got a few more chapters to go!</p><p>Come yell at me, you know you want to lol. In the comments or at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The sudden attack also reveals that Tony’s not the only one who’s been having strange nightmares.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Whatever it was, it came out of nowhere. All Tony knows is that one moment he’s lost in the mesmerizing grasp of Peter’s kisses and the next, the world around them turns literally upside down, the car’s metal frame clashing loudly against the asphalt as they roll across it upon impact.</p><p>When they finally screech to a stop, Tony opens his eyes with a shuddering gasp. He had instinctively shut them tight, tucking his head close against Peter’s chest when the younger man wrapped his arms around him. Peter somehow has his Iron Spider suit on already, the golden waldoes unfolded to create a protective cage around both their torsos, preventing the car’s crumpled chassis from crushing them.</p><p>“Tony. Are you okay?” Peter unmasks his face, concern in his brown eyes as he looks the older man over.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony replies. He shifts and a spark of pain shoots up his leg, making him grimace. “No, wait. My leg. Fuck.” While Peter’s suit managed to avoid injury to their vitals, Tony’s legs were under the dashboard, which had collapsed during the crash and pinned both of his legs.</p><p>“Hang on.” Peter kicks the cracked windshield clear off the window, giving himself some room. Tony watches with amazement as Peter reaches in and pries apart the caved in car frame with his bare hands. Sometimes Tony forgets how absurdly strong Peter is.</p><p>He doesn’t have much time to admire it though. Whatever hit them could still be out there. Tony releases his legs with a wince. He wiggles his toes and rolls his ankles, feeling some nasty bruises forming but nothing seems to be broken. He taps the nanite housing on his own chest, letting the particles spread over his body into his full armour as he crawls out of the ruined car.</p><p>It’s chaos outside. When their car rolled across the road, it had barrelled through several other cars in its way, now strewn across the street in various states of wreckage, horns and alarms blaring in the distance. While none of them are in as bad shape as their own car, there are people all around, either trapped in their ruined vehicles or huddling in the street. Peter is already out there, mask back on, helping the injured civilians into safety.</p><p>“Stark.”</p><p>Tony whips around at the cold voice calling his name.</p><p>It’s coming from a figure that’s definitely alien, standing in the wake of the wreckage, and he looks exceedingly familiar. He’s tall, draped in a dark hood and armour, and strapped to his back is a spear of some kind with a curved blade gleaming golden and sharp at the end of it. His face is grey and fox-like, with eyes fixed on Tony, burning red even from a distance. Hovering behind him, there are about two dozen of what look like flying monkeys with flames at the tips of their dark brown fur, blazing bright like fireballs against the cloudy sky.</p><p>It’s an imposing image and Tony is suddenly reminded of the time not too long ago, just a few blocks away, when he, Banner, Strange, and Wong first came face to face with Thanos’s children, in the beginning of the invasion.</p><p>“Stark,” the alien says again, voice cold and flat. “You have something I want.”</p><p>“I have things lots of people want,” Tony quips through his helmet. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”</p><p>The alien doesn’t deign to specify, however, no villainous monologue or anything. Without another word, he lifts off the ground on propulsive units strapped around his legs, his fleet of flying monkeys following suit with demonic high-pitched shrieks.</p><p>Tony flies to meet him while launching a series of heat-seeking micro-missiles from a panel over his shoulders to the flying minions. The small missiles find their targets, but the fire surrounding their bodies are apparently too hot for them to do much damage.</p><p>Tony ducks a swing from the lead alien’s spear and fires his gauntlet repulsors at him. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., send the groupchat my coordinates and visuals. Tell them I’ve got some alien here wrecking havoc with a dozen or so flying fire-monkeys and requesting backup. Who’ve we got closest?”</p><p>It takes a few moments for the A.I. to reach the other Avengers but when F.R.I.D.A.Y. speaks again, she shows him the location of those who have pinged responses. “James Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Nebula are within range and en route. The others have also been informed of the situation,” she tells him.</p><p>Out of the corner of his HUD vision, Tony sees a flying monkey barrelling its way through the sidewalk, leaving scorch marks on the asphalt, as pedestrians try to get out of its way. Tony shoots at it with a forearm gun and it collapses. Good old-fashioned bullets seem to work on these things.</p><p>Peter seems to have figured out how to deal with the creatures as well. Across the road, Tony sees him leaping around, eyes red on kill mode as he uses the waldoes to take them down and away from the panicking, screaming people.</p><p>Tony shoots at more of the fire monkeys and dodges another blow from the blunt end of the alien’s spear. “Pete, I’m gonna draw the Wicked Witch out of the city, hopefully the flying monkeys will follow. You get the strays and protect the civilians,” Tony informs him over comms.</p><p>“On it!” Peter confirms, shooting webs to slingshot himself feet first into a dumpster, smashing it into a fire monkey that’s been stalking a frightened mother and her child.</p><p>Tony fires up his repulsors and zooms away. His rear camera shows the lead alien and about a dozen of his minions taking off to follow.</p><p>Sam’s voice comes over the comms. “Tony, we’re ten minutes out. Bucky’s with me.”</p><p>“Too many civilians,” Tony replies. “Meet me at the construction area by the Hudson a few blocks from here. Follow my location, I’m taking the fight there.”</p><p>“Copy that.”</p><p>Another voice sounds in his ear. It’s Nebula. “I’m on my way. I can be there in five.”</p><p>“Nebula, are you seeing this?” Tony asks her. “Do you know this guy?”</p><p>“Corvus Glaive,” Nebula’s voice comes through the comms, dripping with disdain. “A brother of mine under Thanos. I thought he was dead.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Tony curses. “Anything I should know about him?” He directs his flight to where he knows one of the piers by the Hudson River is under stalled development and should be devoid of people.</p><p>“Does he have the spear with him?” Nebula asks.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Don’t let the blade touch you,” Nebula says helpfully.</p><p>“Okay, good to know. ‘Cause I was totally gonna let him stab me otherwise,” Tony snarks. His rear view shows Glaive unholstering a harpoon-looking weapon from his belt and aiming it at Tony. “Oh shit,” he curses, making a sharp downward spiral as a large grappling hook type thing shoots past him from the weapon, narrowly grazing him and crashing into a wall of a nearby office building.</p><p>The shot distracts him enough that he can’t evade the fleet of flying monkeys barrelling into him one after another. There’s one holding onto each of Tony’s limbs, disrupting his flight, while several others attempt to drag him back to their master. The flames of their fur are hot enough to burn the outer surface of the nanosuit. The nanoparticles are regenerating after themselves, but the action is rapidly depleting the suit’s power source.</p><p>Tony quickly redirects most of the suit’s energy into the repulsors and he fights his way into taking control of his flight. The Hudson River looms up ahead and he boosts his thrusters, plunging into the waters with a splash, taking the attached flaming monkeys along with him. The creatures shriek and claw at him upon impact, the water dousing the fire in their fur.</p><p>Tony kicks and punches his way free under the water, quickly regenerating the burnt spots in his suit and pumping out any water that snuck its way in through the compromised integrity. Just as he was about to escape, the hook from Glaive’s weapon shoots through the water’s surface, the metal ends extending into a claw large enough to wrap around Tony’s midsection. He’s swiftly yanked out of the water like a fish on a line.</p><p>Glaive is on the other end of it, dragging him in for capture. Tony jerks against the restraints but the jets on the alien’s propulsors are exerting a force just as strong and they’re engaged in some kind of aerial tug of war over the piers.</p><p>Suddenly, something snaps the wire that connects them, sending them hurtling in opposite directions. Tony barely manages to turn himself upright before he hits the ground sprawling.</p><p>He’s landed in the middle of the abandoned construction area on one of the piers. He looks up to see Nebula walking over to him holding a blaster which she must have used to shoot and break the wire. She fires the blaster at the clamps curled around Tony’s torso, releasing him.</p><p>“You did that?” Tony asks as he pushes the metal claws off himself. “You could’ve shot me.”</p><p>“I have exemplary aim,” Nebula says, helping him up onto his feet. “And besides, your suit could handle a few shots.”</p><p>“Watch out!” Tony jerks Nebula out of the way as they both narrowly evade Glaive’s harpoon flying towards them, the hook hitting and scraping the ground where they stood just a second ago.</p><p>Nebula advances on the other alien while the claw is swiftly snapped back into the harpoon. “Leave him. He is not who you’re looking for. <em>I</em> am the one who killed Thanos,” she snarls.</p><p>“Oh, I know, <em>sister</em>. You’re weak, and a traitor, and you will pay for your unholy treachery.” Glaive sneers. With a sharp gesture of his hand, the flying monkeys descend on Nebula, who lifts her blaster and starts firing at them.</p><p>At the same time, another hook comes shooting at Tony but he quickly sidesteps it and catches it mid-flight with his gauntlet. He gives it a sharp yank and the weapon is wrenched out of Glaive’s hands.</p><p>The shots from Nebula’s blaster isn’t working on the fire monkeys, the rounds disintegrated by the protective flames on their fur. She unsheathes her dual daggers and begins slashing at them.</p><p>Glaive takes the spear from behind him and attacks Tony with it. He’s clearly more proficient with that weapon than he was with the harpoon but it’s evident from his attacks that the alien isn’t looking to fatally injure him. Glaive is too nimble for Tony to hit with guns or other long range arsenal, dodging swiftly and blocking the bullets with his spear.</p><p>Tony forms a gladius sword from his nanosuit to parry the swings from Glaive’s spear, the quick scans from F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s combat algorithm assisting him in deflecting and returning the blows. Tony blocks a swing from Glaive’s spear, fires his gauntlet repulsors to blast him back a few paces, but it barely seems to penetrate through the alien’s armour.</p><p>A misstep drives the blade of Glaive’s spear into Tony’s armour, leaving a gash on his left shoulder. For some reason, the tear isn’t closing up. Something in the spear’s blade is preventing the suit from repairing. At the distraction, Tony stumbles and falls hard, flat on his back, breath knocked out of him.</p><p>“Give yourself up and I may consider granting the traitor a quick death,” Glaive says coldly, referring to Nebula who is getting overwhelmed by the fire monkeys surrounding her.</p><p>Barely a second later though, Glaive ducks under an onslaught of bullets. It’s Sam, flying towards them, firing shots from a gun in each hand. He tucks his wings and dives towards them, falcon-kicking Glaive across the clearing before flipping neatly and landing next to Tony.</p><p>“You rang?” Sam quips with a smirk.</p><p>“Took you long enough,” Tony grumbles. Out of the corner of his HUD vision, he sees Bucky roaring in on a motorcycle, driving straight through the fire monkeys surrounding Nebula before hopping off and shooting at them with his semi-automatic.</p><p>Close behind him, Spider-man has caught up to them, swinging in from around a half-constructed building.</p><p>“Huh. What the hell is <em>he</em> doing here?” Sam wonders.</p><p>“Look alive, Wilson,” Tony says, nodding at the pair of flying monkeys screeching towards them like flaming missiles.</p><p>“I got these two. You handle Criss Angel over there,” Sam says, unfolding his wings and taking off with his guns out.</p><p>Glaive has recovered his harpoon weapon and is aiming it at Tony again. Tony takes to the sky to evade the shots.</p><p>Below him on the pier, Nebula, Bucky, and Peter are engaging a swarm of fire monkeys. The flaming fur on the creatures seem to burn right through Peter’s webs but he seems to be holding his own with his waldoes, also heaving a snapped off rebar around as an added weapon. Tony absently makes a mental note to add in some fireproof web fluid upgrades to Peter’s suit.</p><p>At this range and height, Tony unleashes his higher fire-power missiles at Glaive, but the alien either dodges them or uses the blade on his spear to slice right through them.</p><p>“Fri, what the hell is that thing?” Tony asks, frustrated. The gash on his shoulder still hasn’t closed.</p><p>“The blade is moving too fast to scan, boss. But it seems to be some kind of metal not found on Earth or on this solar system, and is capable of splitting atoms,” the A.I. replies.</p><p>Tony swerves and narrowly escapes yet another shot from Glaive’s harpoon. The alien roars in impatience and glances down at the fight on the ground. Seemingly deciding on another target, Glaive dives down to the pier and aims his harpoon at Spider-man.</p><p>“Pete, watch out!” Tony yells, flying down after them.</p><p>Nebula reacts fast. She guts the fire monkey she was grappling with and hurls the creature’s lifeless body at Glaive. Then using the distraction, she leaps towards the alien and puts him in a headlock, dagger to his throat.</p><p>“Thanos and his army couldn’t take this planet. What makes you think you would succeed where he failed?” Nebula hisses at him.</p><p>Glaive growls. “You <em>dare</em> speak his name? Filthy traitor-” He’s cut off when Nebula squeezes tighter at his jugular.</p><p>“She’s right, you know,” Tony says, coming to a land in front of them. “You’re not even here to kill me. What did you think would happen?”</p><p>“Don’t worry, your time will come, Stark,” Glaive spits at him. “Death will come for you soon enough.”</p><p>Nebula’s eyes widen. “What did you-” Glaive drives his elbow hard into Nebula’s abdomen, rearing his head back to smash against her skull. He whips around and gives a vicious kick to her stomach, sending her sprawling into a pile of bricks.</p><p>Tony fires his repulsors but Glaive’s blade deflects the blasts as he advances. A lightning-fast swing of his spear slices through the air and Tony barely escapes the blow to his chest.</p><p>White webs latch onto the handle of the spear and Spider-man tugs it away from Tony. Glaive whips his spear around, knocking Peter to the ground onto his back. With a swift spin, Glaive jabs his blade downwards. Peter scrambles to avoid it but the alien is too quick. The blade sinks into Peter’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground.</p><p>“Peter!” Tony yells.</p><p>Glaive fixes Tony with a deathly cold stare. “I will give no more chances. Surrender yourself or I will kill your little pet right here.”</p><p>“No. Tony, don’t,” Peter gasps, both hands gripping at the hilt of Glaive’s spear, trying and failing to pry the blade out of him. He screams in pain when Glaive sinks the blade in deeper with a vicious twist. Blue sparks run down the length of Glaive’s spear as he sends what seems to be an electric current through it, stunning Peter motionless.</p><p>Tony sees red. Without even thinking, his repulsors are fired up and he’s charging at Glaive. The alien lifts Peter up by his blade, skewered like game on a pike, and tosses his limp body over the pier and into the river.</p><p>Tony’s blood runs cold. “Peter, <em>no</em>!” he roars. He flies past Glaive as fast as he can, ready to launch himself into the water to save Peter. But as soon as his back is turned on the alien, he’s captured in the claw of Glaive’s harpoon, then surrounded by an energy net, trapped, unable to move a single step further. Behind him, Glaive pulls at the wires, dragging Tony back towards him.</p><p>An energy charge pulses through the net Tony’s tangled in and it sends an excruciating shock through his whole body, the pain making him fall to his knees. As he’s towed backwards, he sees Bucky up ahead, running towards the end of the dock in a super-soldier blur, launching himself off it and diving into the river.</p><p>Another energy charge pulses through the net and Tony grits his teeth as he quickly recalibrates the nanoparticles of his suit to transfigure into battery cells that will absorb the energy instead of transferring it through. Another drag closer to Glaive and Tony watches the visual of the absorbed energy in the form of a bar indicator in his HUD. One more.</p><p>Tony keeps struggling against his restraints, thrashing around until Glaive hits him with another energy pulse. The nanoparticles absorb the electrical charge and it’s enough for Tony to add his own suit’s power behind it as he reverses the polarity and releases a shockwave that bursts out of him, breaking him out of the net.</p><p>Twisting around and tugging what remains of the net, he pulls a surprised Glaive towards him and socks him in the jaw, hard enough to dislocate. The alien grapples for his spear, but Tony grabs him by the skull and launches the gauntlets off his hands, separating the two of them by a few paces. Tony ducks and programs the nanoparticles on Glaive’s skull to denotate.</p><p>It’s not a massive explosion, but probably enough to kill Glaive. Probably. Tony doesn’t waste time checking, though.</p><p>In the meantime, Bucky has climbed out of the river with Peter in tow. Tony’s heart sinks when he sees that Peter is still motionless. Even from a distance away, Tony can see that the nanoparticles haven’t closed the rip in Peter’s suit from Glaive’s blade either. There’s water pouring through the gash from where it must have rushed in during his time submerged in the river.</p><p>Sam gets there first. Bucky lays Peter out on the ground and Sam begins the motions of CPR. He can’t seem to find a way to feel a pulse through the suit so he goes straight into chest compressions. Tony flies towards them.</p><p>A few compressions in, Peter convulses, sitting up and retracting his mask, coughing water out of his lungs. Tony skids to a landing in front of him just in time for Peter to look up at him with red-rimmed eyes.</p><p>“Tony,” Peter rasps.</p><p>“Oh, thank God,” Tony mutters. Without thinking, he reaches out to cup Peter’s face and pulls him in to press their lips together, relief washing over him like raindrops. Peter clutches at Tony’s wrist as they kiss.</p><p>Behind them, Tony vaguely hears Bucky ask Sam, “Wait, isn’t that-”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess he is,” Sam replies, sounding astonished.</p><p>--</p><p>Corvus Glaive is dead. Tony’s gauntlets had killed him with the detonation, but Nebula explained that his life force is tied to his spear, which must also be destroyed for him to remain dead. She said that even though Glaive had been killed by Vision during the battle in Wakanda, the unbroken spear had allowed him to be resurrected. Tony snaps the spear in half.</p><p>A Quinjet picks them up and takes them all back to the Avengers Facility. Tony hovers worriedly around the medical team who are seeing to Peter’s injuries. They dress his shoulder wound and then there’s scanning and taking swabs of the gash and blood tests and more scans.</p><p>Grimly, the head doctor tells them that whatever it was Glaive’s blade was made of, it’s preventing Peter from healing at the rate that he normally would. But his blood tests are showing a clotting rate similar to that of normal humans, so it seems as though his wounds will heal eventually, just at the rate of a non-superpowered person.</p><p>Peter ends up needing to get stitches to help him heal. Unfortunately, his metabolism still burns right through the local anaesthetic, and it ends up being a very painful ordeal. He can’t hold Tony’s hand because he’ll squeeze it too tight and break his carpal bones. Instead, Tony curls his arm around Peter’s back, letting the younger man bury his face in the crook of Tony’s neck as he gets stitched up.</p><p>It takes all of Tony’s restraint not to snap angrily at the doctor when Peter winces and whimpers in pain with every push of the suturing needle through his skin. The doctor does try to work as quickly as possible but Tony is still fresh off the emotional distress of seeing Peter almost die. Watching the man he loves be in immense pain after all that is eating at his already frayed nerves.</p><p>When they’re finally done, Peter reclines on the hospital bed with his eyes closed, breathing heavily like he’s just run a marathon. His shoulder is bandaged and his arm is put in a sling to prevent movement that might jostle and break the stitches. There’s tears clinging to his lashes and tracking down his cheeks and Tony wipes them away with his thumb.</p><p>“Sorry,” Peter mutters, opening his watery eyes and looking at Tony.</p><p>“What in the actual fuck are you even sorry for?” Tony murmurs. He brushes Peter’s hair back from his forehead, running gentle fingers through his sweat-damp curls.</p><p>“I don’t know. For making you worry?”</p><p>“You did scare the shit out of me.”</p><p>The door opens and Sam enters the room sporting what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.</p><p>“Nice to officially meet you, Spider-man,” he says. “Glad we’re on the same side this time and I’m not on the sticky end of your bodily fluids. I’m Sam.”</p><p>Peter gives him a tired smile. “Nice to meet you too, Sam. I’m Peter.”</p><p>“Oh, I know,” Sam says, grinning. “You’re famous, Pete. I don’t think I’ve gone a whole day without hearing your name on TV. Nabbing America’s most eligible bachelor and all that.”</p><p>Peter blushes.</p><p>“Leave him alone, Wilson,” Tony says sternly. “The guy’s got a hole on his shoulder-”</p><p>Peter lays a hand on Tony’s forearm. “It’s alright Tony,” he says placatingly.</p><p>Sam’s smile softens. To Tony, he says, “so I’m just letting you know, there’s some stuff in the lab we got off Glaive that we want you to take a look at.”</p><p>Tony glances at Peter. “Right now?” he asks Sam.</p><p>“Doc said Peter’s getting discharged. Figured you two would be taking off soon.” Sam shrugs. “It’s up to you. Just make sure to stop by the lab before you leave.”</p><p>Peter nods. “It’s okay, Tony. I kinda just want to go home. Might as well do it now.” When Tony hesitates, Peter assures him. “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Okay,” Tony says, leaning in to kiss Peter on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”</p><p>Exiting the medical bay, he and Sam walk down the hallway in silence but Tony can feel the unspoken remarks wafting off the other man like a bad odour.</p><p>Tony sighs. “It’s been a long fucking day, Wilson. I’m not really in the mood for any snarky comments about my relationship choices.”</p><p>“I wasn’t gonna say anything. You guys obviously care about each other.” Sam chuckles. “I’m just surprised none of us put two and two together. You bring Spider-man into the scene back in Berlin, some guy who obviously hasn’t seen even the tail end of the 90s. Then the next year you start dating someone in the exact same age bracket? Kind of obvious, in retrospect. Can’t believe none of us saw it.”</p><p>“Wanda and Nat knew.”</p><p>Sam gapes. “You told the girls and not us?”</p><p>Tony huffs exasperatedly. “They figured it out. And what are we, the 90210? I don’t need to tell you everything that’s going on in my life.”</p><p>The laboratory at the Avengers Facility was supposed to be Tony’s space in the compound. He had it constructed just the way he liked it, from the layout, the interior design, to all the equipment and amenities. With him and Banner absent, the lab is run by Selvig and his team of scientists. But right now the astrophysicist is at a conference somewhere so there’s just a handful of his minions around to greet them in the lab.</p><p>And Wanda.</p><p>“Did you know that Tony’s dating Spider-man?” Sam immediately asks her when they walk in.</p><p>Wanda looks up from where she’s scanning the blade of Glaive’s broken spear with the psionic energy emitting red from her dainty fingers. Her eyes dart to Tony who just shrugs and rolls his eyes.</p><p>“…yes?” Wanda replies. At Sam’s affronted expression, she continues defensively, “I was asked keep it off record!”</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re keeping secrets from me,” Sam grumbles.</p><p>“Can we like, move past all the teenage gossip and get to the point?” Tony asks irritably. “Yes, I have a boyfriend. Relax about it. Why am I here?”</p><p>Sam reaches over and plucks a small glass vial of red liquid, about the length of his index finger. There are almost a dozen of them standing in a neat row on the lab’s counter.</p><p>“Pym particles,” Sam says. “Clean-up crew got them off Glaive’s body. Turns out he’s behind the break-in at their labs.”</p><p>Tony picks up the vial and examines it. He’s read about Pym particles in his dad’s notes. Hank Pym is notoriously secretive and distrustful. Even works published by his company don’t reveal much about the properties and full functionality of the particles.</p><p>“What did Glaive want with them?” Tony asks.</p><p>“We were hoping <em>you</em> could tell us,” Sam says. “Why was he even after you in the first place?”</p><p>“I thought it was revenge, you know, for offing Thanos. But he wasn’t trying to kill me. He wanted to take me alive.”</p><p>“Do you think it has something to do with these particles? Maybe he wants you to do something with them.”</p><p>“But why me? Sure, give me a day, I could probably figure out all there is to know about these things. But wouldn’t it make more sense to kidnap <em>Hank Pym</em>? The person who actually invented the damn things? I mean, full offence, he’s also probably much easier to snatch off the street than I am. What’s with all the theatrics?”</p><p>Sam scratches his chin in thought. “I don’t know. I guess we’re still missing some pieces of the puzzle.”</p><p>Wanda sighs, pushing away from the counter where she’s been scanning Glaive’s spear. “I am getting nothing out of this weapon. Whatever ‘life force’ Nebula says is stored in this, there’s nothing in it now. I suppose it is safe to say that Glaive is well and truly dead.” She tilts her head in consideration. “You probably should have kept him alive for questioning.”</p><p>“Sorry. I just got caught up in the moment from where the guy almost <em>killed</em> Peter,” Tony says dryly. He boots up a holographic keyboard and types in some quick commands. “Upload all the data from this into my server. I’ll take a look at them.”</p><p>After getting a thanks from Sam, Tony makes his way back to Peter’s room. Halfway there, he runs into Bucky who’s apparently also on his way to the medical wing.</p><p>“I have to get neural scans after every mission. It’s part of the whole reintegration program,” Bucky informs him.</p><p><em>Didn’t ask</em>, Tony thinks. But out loud, he says, “sure.” They end up walking together down the hallway.</p><p>“How is he?” Bucky asks after a few awkward seconds of silence.</p><p>“Who, Peter? Something about the blade he got hit with is slowing down his healing. But otherwise he’ll be fine with a bit of rest.”</p><p>Bucky nods. “That’s good. I’m glad.”</p><p>Tony glances at him sideways. “Thank you for uh, saving him.” He clears his throat. “I guess we’re supposed to be square now, huh?”</p><p>Bucky gives him a wan smile. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”</p><p>“How is it supposed to work then?”</p><p>Bucky sighs wearily. “On my end? There’s no changing the past. There’s no wiping out the red. It’ll always be there. I just try to move forward and do some good. On <em>your</em> end? Well, that’s up to you. And whatever it is, I don’t begrudge you for it.” They arrive at the medical bay and Bucky turns to him. “For what it’s worth - and I know it’s probably not worth much - I truly am sorry.” He looks like he really means it. His blue eyes look too old on his young face, filled with resignation and remorse. He nods with a small smile before heading into the radiology unit.</p><p>Tony watches him go, waiting to feel that rush of rage that burned him in Siberia to hit him and being surprised that he can’t find it anymore. It’s not forgotten, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. And forgiveness? It’s difficult to wrap his head around the idea of forgiveness when that man, the man who dove into the river and saved Peter, isn’t the same person who caused the car crash on that dark winter road. What is there to forgive? How do you deal when the blood on your hands were put there by forces completely beyond your control? What does redemption even look like in that case?</p><p>Walking back into Peter’s room, Tony finds Nebula sitting by the younger man’s bedside, looking even more somber than usual. Peter’s features are also twisted in a frown and it immediately raises Tony’s shackles.</p><p>“What is it?” Tony asks them.</p><p>“Peter says you’ve been having nightmares too,” Nebula tells him.</p><p>“‘Too’?” Tony echoes.</p><p>“I don’t often have dreams. Not since…” Nebula looks down at her body. “And on the rare occasions that I do, they’re usually just incoherent flashes of memory. But lately…”</p><p>“Ever since we left Titan,” Tony finishes for her.</p><p>“Ever since we left Titan,” Nebula confirms.</p><p>Tony sits down, frowning. “What do <em>you</em> dream about?”</p><p>“Darkness,” Nebula says, grim and foreboding. “A heavy nothingness that seems to take up all the space in a room. And a voice. It says ‘Tony Stark’s time will come. Death will come for him soon.’”</p><p>Tony feels a chill that has nothing to do with the absurdly low temperatures these doctors like to keep the medical wing in. His heart thuds, icy dread pumping through his veins. But being himself, Tony can’t help but snort and go, “oooooh.”</p><p>“Tony,” Peter says sharply, expression deadly serious. To Nebula, he says, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”</p><p>“I didn’t think it was anything of import,” Nebula admits. “The things I see in my sleep … they’re terrible things, but they aren’t real. Just by-products of a lifetime of trauma. They’ve never been prophetic.”</p><p>“That’s why Glaive managed to throw you off,” Tony remembers. “Earlier today when he said-”</p><p>“Yes,” Nebula says. “It’s possible he’s been having the same visions.”</p><p>“Wait, so they <em>are</em> visions?” Peter asks, glancing between Tony and Nebula. “They’re not just nightmares?”</p><p>Nebula looks away, avoiding eye contact. “Our father… Thanos forged a mental connection with us – his children – so that we could better enact his will. It was how they knew the battle was lost in Wakanda after we defeated him on Titan. But he’s <em>dead</em>. I <em>know</em> he is. I would <em>feel</em> it if he wasn’t-” She looks up at Tony, black eyes wild and determined. “I won’t let anything happen to you Tony. You have my word. I’ll go with Thor and the others off planet. I’ll find out what’s going on. I’ll-”</p><p>“Hey. Hey. Nebula.” Tony puts both hands on her shoulders before she goes completely off the rails. “Look, even if- even if these <em>are </em>visions. Maybe it doesn’t even mean anything weird. I mean…” he shrugs, “you know, death comes for everyone at <em>some</em> point.”</p><p>“Tony, I can’t believe you’re making jokes about this,” Peter snaps, glaring at him. “Their visions said death will come for you <em>soon</em>.”</p><p>“I mean…” Tony says weakly, gesturing at the crinkles around his eyes, the greys in his hair.</p><p>Peter scoffs angrily. “That’s not fucking funny.”</p><p>Tony sighs. “Look, I’m just saying. Let’s not jump into crazy conclusions. What are you gonna do, lock me up until-”</p><p>“I’m seriously considering it,” Peter says defiantly. “I <em>am</em> stronger than you.”</p><p>“Baby, you’ve got your arm in a sling. You can’t-”</p><p>“Like that’s gonna stop me. I’m still stronger,” Peter says, stubborn as ever.</p><p>“I concur with this plan,” Nebula adds. “We need to keep you safe while we figure things out.”</p><p>Tony runs a frustrated hand over his face. “Okay, who here isn’t A) lying in a hospital bed-” he glares pointedly at Peter, then turns to Nebula, “-or B) just suffered a concussion? Yes, we’ll figure this out. But no one’s locking anyone up.”</p><p>“Fine,” Peter says. “Let’s go meet with the Avengers. We’ll start the investigations.”</p><p>“Um, no. <em>Me</em> and my fellow Avengers are going to be figuring this out. <em>You</em> need to heal,” Tony says sternly. “The doctors prescribed you with bedrest until you heal properly.”</p><p>“Tony,” Peter says, voice more firm and commanding than he’s ever heard the younger man sound. “Either you come home with me while I heal or I come with you and help the others with the investigations. Your choice.”</p><p>They stare at each other for a few tense moments that even Nebula was loath to interrupt. But finally Tony deflates. “Fine. Let’s just go home.”</p><p>Nebula nods approvingly. “I will leave tonight.”</p><p>Tony’s already connected the lab’s dataframe to his private server and he’s sure the others would let him know immediately if they found some leads. The others might be a bit over their heads about the quantum physics surrounding the Pym particles, but that’s something Tony can work on remotely, at least on a modelling scale. Working on the actual particles in his lab at the penthouse might be a bit risky especially considering the implications of subatomic shrinking without some kind of quantum tunnel to stabilize-</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Peter sits quietly in the cabin of the helicopter, staring out the window and watching the rain starting to fall from the grey skies. Tony refuses to drive them back to the city by car after the incident. He had a Stark Industries helicopter flown in to the Avengers Facility and now they’re both sitting in there as it flies them back to Tony’s apartment.</p><p>The helicopter is more luxury than military, with a roomy cabin and leather seats. But even Peter knows enough about aircrafts to recognize the weapons control system built into the cockpit. He has no doubt that this sleek, business-looking helicopter is hiding all kinds of armament tucked in the fuselage, just like an Iron Man suit.</p><p>Tony sits next to him surrounded by multiple holographic pages showing data readings from Glaive’s broken spear and ongoing autopsy results being conducted at the Avengers Facility, Peter’s medical history and test results, information on the Pym particles, all scrolling at once with varying speeds as Tony takes them in with occasional swipes of his hand. The man himself is frowning as he stares at all the data, lost in thought.</p><p>Peter can’t get Nebula’s words out of his mind.</p><p>
  <em>Tony Stark’s time will come. Death will come for him soon.</em>
</p><p>Peter doesn’t really know if he prescribes to visions or prophecy. But in a world with aliens and magic and powers of the entire cosmos condensed into a half dozen gemstones, it seems like nothing should be dismissed as an outright impossibility. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He wants to shut Tony away in his room while he goes and figures it out. But if staying locked away with Tony is the only way to keep the older man home and safe then Peter will do it. The Avengers can handle the investigations.</p><p>Peter glances over at Tony. He wonders if it should scare him how much he’s willing to do for Tony. He’s never felt this way before. That resolute, unwavering, all-consuming kind of devotion that tells Peter that everything will be okay, that he would be okay even if the whole world was on fire, as long as Tony is by his side.</p><p>Peter reaches over and takes Tony’s hand in his. Despite their argument earlier, the other man looks up at him and his expression softens. Peter’s heart clenches when Tony lifts their clasped hands and brushes his lips across the younger man’s knuckles.</p><p>They’ll be okay. Peter will make sure of it.</p><p>It’s full on raining by the time the helicopter lands on the rooftop of Tony’s apartment building. Having no umbrella, Tony holds his suit jacket over both their heads as they half-run together towards the rooftop entrance.</p><p>Walking into Tony’s apartment has a distinctly different feel to it than the last time Peter was here. Raindrops are falling full force against the floor-to-ceiling windows, reducing the view of the city into a formless, grey blur. There’s a faint rumble of thunder in the distance and Peter shivers a little in his slightly damp clothes. He hopes he didn’t get his bandages too wet.</p><p>Tony walks over to him and gently cups Peter’s face with both hands, tilting his chin up. There’s an aching earnestness in Tony’s eyes, something that’s yearning to cross the divide between them, a spoken sentiment that’s yet to take form. Peter has never been very good at hiding his emotions, and it’s impossible to do so when Tony is looking at him like that. Maybe Peter will say it first.</p><p>But for now they kiss. Softly, reverently, tenderly, like it’s a fragile thing they don’t want to break with rough, careless hands. Tony’s lips are slightly cold from the wind, but they quickly warm under Peter’s touch. There’s so much going on that he doesn’t understand, but Tony’s embrace is like taking shelter in a storm, safe in knowing that the elements can’t reach him when they’re together like this.</p><p>Peter takes the kiss and builds it higher, letting the slide of their tongues release a wave of arousal that feeds on itself until they’re both moaning in want. Peter arches his body up against Tony, his injured shoulder twinging as he tries to tug the older man closer to him, the hand that’s jutting out of the sling clutching desperately at Tony’s shirt.</p><p>“Easy there, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs, hands steadying Peter’s waist.</p><p>“Please, Tony. I need-” Peter fumbles with unbuttoning Tony’s shirt, tugging the fabric out of his pants.</p><p>“Peter, your shoulder…”</p><p>“I don’t care. We can just… we’ll make it work,” Peter says between kisses. “Please? I want to- I <em>need </em>to feel close to you. I need you, Tony.”</p><p>“Okay,” Tony says, his lips gentle against Peter’s, soothing him. “Okay, let me just … let’s just go a bit slower. I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>They make it to the bedroom. Tony coaxes Peter to lie on the bed as he undresses the younger man carefully. Peter shivers as Tony kisses him all over, the scrape of his beard a pleasant tingle on his sensitive skin. Tony has to undo the sling momentarily to slip Peter’s shirt off his shoulders and Peter doesn’t want to put it back on.</p><p>“It’s not sexy,” Peter mumbles.</p><p>Tony chuckles, kissing the tip of Peter’s nose. “It’s you, baby. Everything about you is sexy.”</p><p>Peter allows Tony to re-sling his shoulder after some more persuasive kisses. Also, when Tony takes the rest of his own clothes off, any other thought flies right out of Peter’s mind anyway.</p><p>The solid build of Tony’s body and the soft definition of his musculature never fails to make Peter’s mouth water. But there’s a dark bruise blooming on his midsection that must be from the claws of Glaive’s harpoon. Peter reaches out his uninjured arm to trace it with his fingertips.</p><p>“It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise,” Tony says, taking Peter’s hand and kissing the open palm of it. He leans down to hover over Peter’s body, caging him in his arms, breaths mingling with how close they are.</p><p>Peter looks up at him, feeling like his heart might burst. “Kiss me,” he whispers.</p><p>Tony obliges. It’s a fervent sort of kiss, hungry and possessive. Peter lets it wash over him, pinned under Tony’s weight and the urgency of his touches. Peter’s legs spread in welcome and Tony grinds their hips together, both hard and aching as their naked bodies move in sinuous synchrony.</p><p>Tony prepares him a little too meticulously, until Peter’s squirming and whining in desperation at the way Tony’s clever fingers are moving inside him. He wants to feel every inch of Tony stretching him out, carving out a space inside him that only Tony can fill.</p><p>Peter can barely stifle a gasp when Tony finally enters him, slow and unrelenting like the weight of all the words that are steadily climbing the back of Peter’s throat. He’s never felt so complete as to when Tony’s inside him, driving his cock in deep and unstoppable, like waves meeting the shore over and over again.</p><p>Tony is glorious above him, powerful and beautiful. His lust-darkened eyes gaze down at Peter with the kind of adoration of which the younger man never imagined he’d ever be on the receiving end. Tony is everything. He’s all that Peter can see, all that he can feel right now.</p><p>Peter can’t imagine not having this. He doesn’t want to think about all the dire possibilities, the unknown threat that’s looming over their heads. He can’t lose Tony. Not when he’s lost so many people in his life already. It would kill him. He clutches tightly at Tony’s shoulders, turning his head to find the other man’s lips, kissing him hard and desperate.</p><p>Tony hauls Peter’s thighs up under the crook of his elbows, folding him almost in half as he shoves in deeper, groaning at the change in angle. “God, Pete, you feel amazing. Is this good for you, baby?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter exhales. “Yeah, it’s so good, Tony. I-” His breath hitches with every thrust of Tony’s hips, hitting that spot inside him that makes him see stars. The pleasure is almost overwhelming. Peter bites his lip and shuts his eyes, feeling the fire in his gut burning ever brighter, coiling and clenching and ready to combust. It’s too much, too good. He can’t hold it back anymore. “I love you,” he gasps. “Oh, God, I love you so much, Tony. <em>Oh, fuck!</em>”</p><p>Peter hears Tony choke out a grunt against the crook of his neck. “Oh, baby, I love you too. <em>I love you too</em>, baby. You have no idea-” Tony groans as he feels Peter’s climax grip around him, hips stuttering as he fucks him erratically, harder and faster until he spills his orgasm into Peter’s body.</p><p>“I love you,” Peter says again, like a prayer, like an incantation that would save them, protect them from whatever forces out there that might try to take Tony away from him.</p><p>“I love <em>you</em>,” Tony says with a kiss, completing the circle.</p><p>--</p><p>Tony doesn’t fall asleep. He holds Peter in his arms as the younger man dozes off, breathing steadily on his chest. Tony’s fingers brush gently through Peter’s soft curls, lost in his thoughts.</p><p>Ask any genius with any semblance of a moral compass and they’ll tell you there are dark things their minds curse them with. Ideas and inventions that unfold like intrusive thoughts, ways to destroy the world and everything in it in multiple different ways.</p><p>Tony knows why it had to be him. He's the only one who can do it. If Hank Pym was capable of doing it, he probably would have done it already.</p><p>But it should be over with Glaive’s death, right? Nothing needs to happen if Tony doesn’t make it happen. He holds the key to a locked door and he’s never ever going to open it.</p><p>Tony doesn’t fall asleep because he can’t sleep. He slowly slips out from under Peter’s arms and sits up on the bed, watching the younger man sleep. Peter looks so beautiful curled up in his bed, like he belongs there. Something about this moment makes Tony want to forget about everything, carve out a little space in time where this particular moment will stretch on forever and ever. Something is telling him not to get out of bed.</p><p>There’s a noise coming from the living room. It’s odd, F.R.I.D.A.Y. should have notified him of any threat.</p><p>Stepping out of the bedroom, Tony finds Doctor Strange standing a few paces down in his hallway, still in the same robes from the last time they saw each other on Titan.</p><p>Strange’s expression is somber and sympathizing. “Tony,” he says. “The time has come.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay I know you guys may be anxious about what’s happening here, but as I’ve said time and time again to people who have asked, I solemnly swear this fic will have a happy ending for our boys. Just bear with me here. I promise (I hope) it will be worth it in the end. We’re in the endgame now!</p><p>Thank you so much for sticking with me and being so patient over the holiday break. Hope everyone had a safe and happy new years. Tell me what you thought of this chapter! I had massive trouble writing the action-packed first half of it. Big, gigantic thank you to Sophie (blushing-starker on tumblr) for beta-ing this for me and bringing sense and clarity to my tangly sentences. </p><p>Talk to me at:<br/>sinditia.tumblr.com<br/>twitter.com/sinditia</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Doctor Strange needs Tony’s help. It’s a lot to ask of him, but he’s the only one who can do it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First of all, I just want to say, I’m sorry.</p><p>Warnings: Endgame spoilers</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Peter sits up abruptly in bed, woken suddenly by that tell-tale tingle of something going wrong.</p><p>Tony’s side of the bed is empty, the rumpled sheets still warm to the touch. Peter can hear that it’s still raining hard outside, there’s an odd sort of rhythmic beeping somewhere in the distance, and there are voices just outside the bedroom. He puts on his boxers and grabs the nearest shirt – Tony’s from the size of it. He puts his uninjured arm through one sleeve and lets the other side drape over his slinged shoulder, leaving it unbuttoned.</p><p>Opening the bedroom door, he finds Tony standing in the hallway speaking to someone.</p><p>“Tony?” Peter calls out. “What’s going on?”</p><p>The two men turn at the sound of his voice. The other man with Tony is Stephen Strange.</p><p>“Damn that mutation,” Strange mutters, too low for someone without Peter’s ears to pick up. Neither of them seem to hear that weird noise beeping gratingly in the background.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Peter asks him, frowning.</p><p>“I need Tony’s help,” Strange replies.</p><p>Peter glances at Tony, who looks apprehensive and uncharacteristically fearful. Peter immediately straightens up, ready to be on the defensive. “For what?”</p><p>“I’m not from this universe,” Strange says. “My world is in danger. Tony is the only one who can save it. He needs to-”</p><p>“If this is about the Pym particles and the quantum tunnel, I’m not doing it,” Tony interrupts. “Not if there’s even the tiniest chance it could bring Thanos back.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Peter is completely lost. He holds both hands up in front of him. “Can everybody just back up for a second here? And <em>what the hell is that noise?</em>”</p><p>Tony frowns at Peter. Then his eyes widen in realization and he takes out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, tapping away on it rapidly.</p><p>Peter turns to Strange. “What do you <em>mean</em> you’re from another universe?”</p><p>“There <em>is</em> a multiverse, an infinite number of worlds,” Strange explains. “And not just dark, fathomless dimensions, but also worlds that are similar to yours, running in parallel, some with few, others with many differences. I am from one of these worlds, and it’s facing total annihilation due to the destruction of our set of the Infinity Stones.”</p><p>“Bullshit,” Tony counters, conjuring up a hologram from his phone, showing six indicators blinking in tandem with the beeping sounds Peter has been hearing, rotating in a circle, each of them glowing a different colour. “You’ve got all the Infinity Stones with you right now.”</p><p>Strange raises an eyebrow at him.</p><p>Tony makes a sharp gesture at the hologram and the beeping noises cease. “That’s a security alert I’ve been developing to detect the presence of the Infinity Stones. Didn’t think it would work in all honesty, but I guess the proximity helped. It went off right when you showed up.”</p><p>“You got me,” Strange says sardonically. “But these aren’t the Infinity Stones from my world. They’re from <em>yours</em>. I’m … borrowing them. I’ve made arrangements with Wong, Keeper of the Time Stone in your universe. He’s kindly allowed me to use it on the condition that I return them all to him for safekeeping when I’m done.”</p><p>“You’ve been here since the beginning,” Tony realizes, remembering their first meeting at the New York Sanctum right before the invasion. “The two of you… He let us think <em>you</em> were Keeper of the Time Stone.”</p><p>“I <em>am</em> the Keeper of the Time Stone,” Strange says. “Just not the one from your universe. Here, in <em>this</em> universe, Wong is the Keeper while Stephen Strange is simply a world-renowned neurosurgeon at Metro General. Brilliant, but ignorant of all things concerning the Mystic Arts. You may have heard of him.” He pauses, looking at them expectantly. “Published his seminal work on neuroregeneration through laminectomy?”</p><p>Tony glances at Peter, who shrugs.</p><p>“Fine, whatever,” Strange grumbles, shaking his head. “My point is. Tony, I need you to <em>come with me</em>.”</p><p>Peter bristles and steps forward until he’s standing firm between Strange and Tony. “Okay, I’ve had enough of people popping up out of nowhere trying to kidnap Tony. What is it that you want with him? What are you doing with the Stones? And how do you even <em>have</em> all of them? I thought Wanda destroyed the Mind Stone in Wakanda.”</p><p>Strange huffs impatiently. “I took it from her, right as she was about to disintegrate it. She may have sensed something was amiss – I think she told you as much – but she didn’t notice my presence and still thought it was destroyed. But like I said, my world is in danger. The Infinity Stones represent the six pre-creation singularities of the universe. Pillars, if you will, that contain the infinite energies that hold up the cosmos. In <em>my</em> world, Thanos succeeded in using them to decimate half of all life in the galaxy, then destroyed the Infinity Stones themselves. Without the pillars holding it up, our universe will collapse.”</p><p>Tony’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Shit. That means-”</p><p>“A complete collapse of the continuity,” Strange confirms. “Falling in on itself until it eventually pulls all the divergent, contiguous realities into nothingness. Even yours.”</p><p>“That makes no sense,” Peter counters, brows furrowing. “The inherent nature of a multiverse is that there’s an eternal inflation system. It’s infinite. How could it be totally annihilated?”</p><p>“Countless universes are being destroyed and created through divergence as we speak, that’s true,” Strange admits. “But I’m not concerned with what’s happening in the distant reaches of the multiverse, just as they aren’t concerned with what happens to us. The multiverse will continue to exist long after we’re gone. But <em>my</em> priority is <em>my own</em> Earth, located in <em>my own </em>universe. My task is to ensure it keeps spinning. And since <em>your </em>universe is proximal to ours, I would have thought that <em>you</em> would be interested to keep <em>your</em> world spinning too. Once we’re devoured, you will be next. Protect our world, and yours will be safe.”</p><p>“Okay,” Tony exhales, running a weary hand down his face. “Okay, and what, you’re <em>stuck</em> here or something? Like I told you, I’m <em>not</em> creating a quantum tunnel. Not for you, or for anyone. Glaive was planning on creating a quantum tunnel to bring back Thanos and using me to do it. I’m not risking that. You can find your own way back to your world.”</p><p>“Did you forget that I’m <em>Master of the Mystic Arts</em>?” Strange says irritably. “I don’t need a quantum tunnel to travel between worlds. I need your help with something else. I … <em>can’t</em> wield the Infinity Stones. I’m incompatible, and physically unable to harness their energy. They can only be used by someone from the same universe, or at least the same timeline. Since these Infinity Stones are from <em>your </em>universe…”</p><p><em>Tony Stark’s time will come</em>, Peter remembers Nebula’s words.</p><p>“No!” Peter blurts out. “No, <em>no.</em> Absolutely not. Tony, you <em>can’t</em>.” No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to go. From the stunned look on his face, Tony seems to be coming to the same dreadful conclusion, a stony sort of resolve forming the decision in his mind.</p><p><em>No</em>.</p><p>“When?” Tony asks quietly.</p><p>“I don’t know for sure,” Strange answers. “I may be the Keeper of the Time Stone in my world, but I’m still more or less human. My perception of time still has its limits. It could be tomorrow, next week, a thousand years from now, or in the next few hours. Either way, I’d rather not dawdle and find out.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” Peter says again, fists clenched. He positions himself right in front of Tony, shielding him bodily from Strange. “Why him?” He’s angry now. So angry he’s close to pleading. “Why Tony? He’s not- He’s done enough. He doesn’t-”</p><p>“Peter, the dreams…” Tony says from behind him. His voice is low, a little flat, a little numb. “All this time, I’ve been seeing his world. The one where you’re … where you’re dead.”</p><p>Strange nods. “The Peter Parker in my universe was killed along with the countless lives lost when Thanos snapped his fingers. They will all be restored eventually. But it will all be for nothing if the scaffolding of the universe isn’t restored. Only the Infinity Stones can bring a set of Infinity Stones back.”</p><p>“Then I’ll come with you,” Peter tells Tony. There’s a distinct undercurrent of fear in the older man’s wide, anxious eyes, and it makes Peter all the more fiercely protective, wanting to wrap himself around him like a shield, like armour. “I’ll be there all the way. You don’t have to do anything alone.”</p><p>“You can’t,” Strange interrupts. “I’m already risking the stability of <em>your </em>universe just by being here. Matter isn’t meant to crossover like this. I can’t bring <em>two </em>people into my already unstable universe.”</p><p>“Fine, then take me instead,” Peter snaps at Strange. “I’m stronger than Tony. I’m the better choice anyway. <em>I’ll</em> do it.”</p><p>“Peter, no,” Tony says firmly. “You wouldn’t be able to even if you wanted to. It’s quantum entanglement from inter-dimensional interaction. <em>I’m</em> the one who’s been having these dreams. It’s always been me. I’ve <em>always </em>been the one to do this. It’s-”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em> that!” Peter shouts, so furious that even Tony flinches. “There’s no such thing as- as predeterminism or destiny or whatever the fuck. We don’t just … accept things lying down. <em>We</em> write our own stories. No one gets to decide for us.”</p><p>“And we will.” Tony takes Peter's hand in both of his, squeezing it tight. “You don’t think I’m going to be fighting this as hard as I can? I’ll come back to you. I will.” He’s looking right into Peter’s eyes, his gaze earnest and attempting at reassurance. But Tony’s eyes have always been too expressive for his own good, and Peter has always been able to see right through them.</p><p>Peter chokes out a breath, feeling like his chest is caving in. “Don’t- Tony, you know I can always tell when you’re lying.” He can feel tears starting to prickle in the corners of his eyes. He looks up at Tony, pleading and desperate. “You can’t seriously be thinking about this. Why do you have to- It doesn’t have to be you. It doesn’t. I don’t care what the- what the <em>universe</em> says-”</p><p>Tony gathers Peter in his arms, pulling him against his chest, holding him tight. The bittersweet tenderness of it all slices at Peter’s heart and he shuts his eyes, letting the tears fall freely and helplessly.</p><p>Peter’s uninjured arm grips tight around Tony’s back, the one in a sling clutching at the front of Tony’s shirt. “For fuck’s sake, Tony, don’t do this,” he mumbles into the older man’s shoulder. “Please, just… just be selfish, for once in your life. You have nothing to prove to anyone. I can’t- I <em>can’t</em> do this without you. I <em>need</em> you.”</p><p>Tony pulls back just enough to cup Peter’s face with both hands, looking into his watery eyes. “Peter, I love you,” Tony whispers, their foreheads pressed together. Peter reaches up to grip Tony’s wrist desperately. He can feel Tony’s breath on his face. “I love you. I love you so much.”</p><p>“No, don’t say that,” Peter pleads. His grip on Tony’s wrist tightens. He’s probably hurting him but he can’t. He can’t let go. He won’t. “Don’t say goodbye. Don’t leave me, Tony. <em>Please</em>.”</p><p>Tony kisses him.</p><p>Peter makes a strangled sound, despair and desperation in every movement of his lips. It’s not fair. Isn’t it enough? If this is a love story, then why isn’t it enough to simply love and be loved in return? Isn’t the boundless depth of his love for Tony enough to keep the man with him? What more is he supposed to give?</p><p>Peter feels the very air open in front of them, golden criss-crossing sparks breaching a fracture into space itself.</p><p><em>No, not yet</em>, Peter begs, holding Tony tighter.</p><p>The portal moves towards them. Or they’re being pulled towards it like it has its own gravity, it’s hard to say. Peter doesn’t let Tony go, hoping that wherever the man goes, he’ll be taken with him. He’s not going to let anything or anyone separate them. Not ever.</p><p>But the portal passes through them and Peter is left all alone in the hallway, quiet now with nothing but the sound of rain falling harder than ever outside. There’s nothing but empty air in his arms, trembling hands holding onto nothing.</p><p>Peter stifles a sob, hand over his mouth.</p><p>Tony’s gone.</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p>Tony didn’t know what he expected traveling between universes would be like. The reality of it feels extremely nauseating and disorienting. It’s like someone had shoved him into an ultracentrifuge and just cranked it up to max. Once his feet hit solid ground, he doubles over in a dry heave, trying to keep the contents of his stomach where it is.</p><p>When the world stops feeling like it’s kicking him in the guts, Tony finally looks up.</p><p>They seem to be at the training compound in the Avengers Facility, essentially a warehouse, a wide open space with high ceilings, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall, glass windows. There’s something oddly stale about the air around them. His breath is heavier, like it’s requiring a slightly more conscious effort to pull the oxygen into his lungs.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Strange says ruefully. “I was hoping we could have done all that without getting Peter involved. I tried, but my powers seem to be limited in a universe where I don’t belong.”</p><p>“You were just going to take me without letting me say goodbye to him?” Tony says angrily, still physically and emotionally jarred from getting yanked across dimensions.</p><p>“Was that really any better? Seeing him like that, did it help you at all?” Strange points out.</p><p>Tony doesn’t deign that with an answer. He feels like if he lets himself slow down, lets himself think about all that he’s left behind, then the crushing tragedy of it all will be so suffocating that he won’t have the strength to do anything more than fall to his knees and weep. Instead, he grits his teeth against the pain, pacing around, observing his surroundings.</p><p>The biggest, most obvious difference between this place and its counterpart back in his universe is the huge machinery constructed in the middle of the room. Built almost like a stage, there’s a raised platform with curved metal scaffolds surrounding it like an enclosure, with countless reflective panels hanging from above. Thick, black cables extend out from beneath the stage like tangled tree roots, connecting it to all sorts of power generators and supercomputers.</p><p>“They have a quantum tunnel,” Tony says, recognizing the structure immediately. It’s exactly how he would have designed it when he realized such a thing could be done.</p><p>Strange walks up to him. “You – the you of this universe – and the Avengers used the tunnel to retrieve a set of Infinity Stones from this universe’s past, borrowing them to undo Thanos’s snap.”</p><p>“Glaive tried to kidnap me to create this tunnel to bring Thanos back,” Tony says.</p><p>Strange nods. “And it would have worked too had he succeeded in coercing you to do so. It’s always been a possibility, as your friends here will soon find out.”</p><p>Tony looks around at the deserted space. “Where are they anyway? How much time do we have?”</p><p>“They’re outside,” Strange replies. He seems to hesitate for a moment. “Not all of them made it when they returned from retrieving the Stones. They’re taking the time to mourn. They’ll be a while, but I’ve slowed time down sufficiently to let you do whatever you need to do to create a gauntlet.”</p><p>The dust motes in the pillars of light streaming through the windows are frozen in stillness, held in inertia through temporal manipulation.</p><p>“Who?” Tony asks.</p><p>“Natasha Romanoff.”</p><p>It’s like a punch in the gut. If this Natasha was anything like his back home, then she would have seemed unbeatable, untouchable, too quick and cunning to let something like death catch up to her. Tony wants to ask how, as if it will somehow protect his own Natasha back home, prevent it from happening, but their worlds would have already diverged at this point. He wants to force the Time Stone Keeper to go back and save her but from the look on his face, it seems that he already knows what Tony is thinking.</p><p>“There’s nothing I can do,” Strange says apologetically. “Her death … her <em>sacrifice</em> is tied to the Soul Stone and the preservation of the timeline.”</p><p>Sacrifice. Of course.</p><p>The two of them – Tony and Natasha - they’ve never outright spoken about it in depth, such is the way of their group’s collective emotional constipation. But it’s quite understood that both Iron Man and the Black Widow have blood-stained pasts. Tony can see how Natasha would leap at the chance to make her life matter, to give herself up with no hesitation for the greater good. He wants to curse her for it, but he’s got no leg to stand on, here in a universe that’s not his, ready to do the same.</p><p><em>You have nothing to prove to anyone</em>, Peter had insisted.</p><p>But Peter’s different. Peter’s always been good. Peter has always deserved the world.</p><p>Tony shakes his head. He walks over to one of the monitors, pulling up the logs.</p><p>It confirms what Strange said. The Avengers of this universe have just returned from the quantum realm, having travelled to multiple different temporal openings to pluck the Infinity Stones from their respective timelines. The next plan is to finalize the nano-gauntlet and implement the Stones. Tony pulls up the schematics, eyes skimming through the familiarly styled notes and annotations.</p><p>“We can’t use the nano-gauntlet your counterpart has created,” Strange says. “Using the Stones will damage it and your friends will need it later. You’ll need to make one from scratch. The lab should have any of the materials you need.”</p><p>Tony closes the schematics and types in a series of commands. If he knows himself the way he knows he does…</p><p>“No need for that,” Tony says, pressing enter and being granted access to the encrypted server belonging to this universe’s Tony Stark. “See, if I were him – and he <em>is</em> me, essentially – I would have a backup plan.” Tony opens up a new set of schematics onto the monitor, revealing an upgraded version of the Mark 50, which is … the Mark 85, apparently. The other Tony Stark’s been busy.</p><p>Glancing at the timestamps, Tony notes that it’s 2023, five years since the initial invasion, five years since he went to Titan to fight Thanos, five years since … the Peter of this universe died.</p><p>Unable to help himself, Tony searches for another folder he knows will be there. Thirty-four upgrades to the Iron Man suit, each one stronger than the last as the other Tony keeps devising new ways to confront Thanos’s immense powers. All the reports, notes after notes, endless experiments, hypothesis tests, all the failed attempts at undoing the snap and bringing everyone back.</p><p>And then there’s Peter’s picture, tucked in a hidden folder, along with the final, shameful, last-ditch attempts, when the other Tony forgets about everything else, everyone else, and just tries to bring Peter back. Just Peter. Tony sees his counterpart’s increasingly hopeless notes and remembers feeling the desolation through his dreams. He remembers the guilt and despair when the other Tony finally closed this folder and put it behind him, to build a family he knew Peter would have loved.</p><p>Tony knows that even in this other universe, even when they’re not together romantically, he still loved Peter with all his heart, loved him to the point of invention, risked everything just for a chance to bring him back.</p><p>Tony looks back at the schematics for the Mark 85, at one upgrade to the suit in particular. “I’m not going to survive this, am I?” Tony asks Strange. “The me from this universe, I mean.”</p><p>“No,” Strange answers honestly. “But you will <em>win</em>. Thanos will be defeated and everyone will be back. Including Peter.”</p><p>Tony nods. That’s … that’s good to know. It comforts him that even in another universe, another version of him is willing to take one for the team, for the world. For Peter.</p><p>It doesn’t take long to copy the program from the Mark 85 into his own suit. He doesn't need any of the amped up weaponry anyway, just the nano-gauntlet upgrade. The other Tony had done his research. He knew that if it came down to it, if he had to wield the gauntlet, he wouldn’t survive, no matter what he did. Such is the nature of the Infinity Stones. No amount of tech could protect him, a mortal human, from such distilled power and devastation.</p><p>“You said that out of 14 million however many outcomes, there were two where we would win, one in which I would live,” Tony says, remembering the wizard’s words back on Titan. “What makes the difference?”</p><p>Strange shrugs. “Chance. A flip of a coin. Subject to the whims of cosmic entities beyond our comprehension. Nothing you or I could do about it.”</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re extremely helpful, you know that?” He finishes up and closes the display. He drums his fingers restlessly on the counter.</p><p>“Are you ready?” Strange asks.</p><p>“No,” Tony answers truthfully.</p><p>But Strange waves his hand anyway, tracing a broad circle of green light over and over and over and the world around them moves in a sped up blur. It’s too fast for Tony to really see what’s going on but whatever connection he has with this universe’s Tony Stark somehow allows him to know about all of it as if it’s his own memories they’re sifting through.</p><p>There’s an explosion that destroys the Avengers Facility, and a great battle. The gauntlet exchanges hands many times until it finds its way to the other Iron Man. Tony feels the fear, the determination, the hope … then he feels nothing.</p><p>They win. The world keeps moving even when the other Tony Stark stops.</p><p>Finally, the darkness of the battleground fades away and they stop on a beautiful sunny day at a sprawling forest property by a calm lake with shimmering waters. A modest, rustic-looking house is perched on a slight hill behind them, a single winding driveway curving out of view around the trees. It’s the cabin by the lake from Tony’s dreams.</p><p>There’s people around, conversing quietly in clustered groups around the property, expressions as somber as their black attire. It seems like everyone Tony knows is here.</p><p>“Wow, you’re really gonna let me kill myself at my own funeral,” Tony comments dryly.</p><p>To his credit, even Strange looks pained at that. “Your friends are preparing to return the Infinity Stones to restore the timeline. Captain Rogers will be the one to take them. Once he’s gone, you will activate the gauntlet.”</p><p>Tony looks over to where Strange is pointing. He sees that the other Tony’s friends seem to have constructed another quantum tunnel. It’s a lot smaller than the one in the Avengers Facility training compound, more streamlined, built for transport of a single person.</p><p>It’s a nice place, this property by the lake. It has neither the fast-paced bustle of high-tech urban life nor the upscale extravagance Tony usually surrounds himself with. It's a quiet and simple retirement. While the other Tony Stark barely had a chance to enjoy it, he, himself, will never get to experience it all.</p><p>“It’s not fair,” Tony mutters bitterly, pacing away. “This can’t be how it ends. It’s not fair. I can’t-” he exhales harshly, running a hand down his face. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m not ready.”</p><p>Strange waves his hands and the world around them comes to a standstill. Tony supposes the other man is giving him time. Time to … what, process? Prepare? Tony knows he has to do this sooner or later – if either of those words even mean anything in this temporal limbo. Even if he’s suspended here for what feels like a thousand years, prolonging that final step towards his death, none of it even matters. It’s not even his death that Tony grieves for, it’s the loss of a life he could have had, all the years he could have spent in love, in sickness and in health, in happiness, with Peter. God, they’ve only just started. Why couldn’t they have more time?</p><p>Tony gazes out over the lake and wonders if it had been this difficult for his counterpart to march back into battle knowing that he wouldn’t make it. Tony wouldn’t presume to know what it feels like to have a wife and daughter, but the other Tony had lived five years without his Peter. He wonders if that made the decision easier.</p><p>There’s a lone figure standing on the dock, a familiar profile silhouetted against the sun rays reflecting off the lake’s surface. Tony finds his feet moving on their own accord, walking towards the man.</p><p>“Tony, you can’t speak to him,” Strange reminds him gently. “And he’s not yours.”</p><p>“I know. I just-” Tony wants so much to run over there, gather the man in his arms and never let go. “I just want to see him. One last time.”</p><p>Strange wisely lets him go. If he had tried to stop him, Tony probably would’ve punched him in the face.</p><p>Peter stands alone at the dock, back stiff, shoulders tense, expression closed off. There are no tears in his eyes, only a dull sort of disquiet in his blank stare. Even frozen in time, Tony could feel the pain radiating off the younger man like a grey aura. This is what a Peter looks like without his Tony, what <em>his</em> Peter will be like when Tony doesn’t come back.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Tony says. He’s saying it to his Peter back home, but he supposes he’s also saying it to <em>this</em> Peter on behalf of the other Tony. He takes in Peter’s appearance, committing every detail to memory. He looks just like his Peter. Those big brown eyes he wants to see looking up at him one last time, the wind-swept wavy hair he wants to run his fingers through, those soft lips he wants to kiss just one more time. “I love you.”</p><p>Tony wishes he had said it more often.</p><p>He’s thrown himself in the fire before, willingly given his life for the good of the world, but it’s never been this hard. He stands there on the dock with Peter for longer than he probably should, wishing that this was just another one of his harrowing nightmares, that he would open his eyes to find himself back home, in bed, curled up around Peter’s warmth. He doesn’t want to go. Please, he doesn’t want to go.</p><p>Tony turns before he loses his nerve. He deploys the suit, letting it cover him as he walks back to shore, wishing the suit of armour could protect and harden the aching heart that’s close to shattering in his chest.</p><p>Strange doesn’t say anything as Tony approaches. He simply opens up the pendant on his sternum with a gesture of his hands, allowing the six gemstones stored in it to float up and make their way towards Tony, their multicoloured facets glinting innocently under the sun. Tony raises a hand to accept them into his gauntlet, the nanoparticles moving and shifting to house them into place.</p><p>The pure, unadulterated power that surges through him is agonizing and consuming. Tony gasps, throwing his head back. He can feel them speaking to him, treacherous and seductive in the immensity of their cataclysmic power. He can see himself laid bare on his knees before them, stripped down to his subatomic particles, uncovering all of his secrets and desires.</p><p>Tony’s armour cracks under the pressure, fissures forming from the grooves around the stones, trailing up his arms towards his neck. It’s like moving through quicksand. His body doesn’t feel like his own anymore, reduced to a puppet hung on strings held by an unseen celestial being. It takes all of Tony’s willpower to make the stones move but he does it, slowly, excruciatingly.</p><p>Tony thinks about Peter. He thinks about the world he’s keeping safe for him.</p><p>Tony snaps his fingers.</p><p>--</p><p>
  <em>Peter stands alone at the dock, looking out over the lake by the Starks’ family cabin. He still can’t comprehend the notion that Mr. Stark is gone. The arc reactor bearing the proof of Tony Stark’s heart floats down the water in some sort of symbolism of acceptance, of letting him go, but it only makes Peter feel like Mr. Stark is still out there somewhere, fighting the good fight like the warrior he is, heart beating and all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something makes the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stand up. Not a threat, something gentle and benevolent like a quiet, affectionate whisper in the breeze. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter turns but there’s no one there.</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>When Tony opens his eyes, he’s still on the other Stark’s property, but he’s all alone now. No Strange, no Peter, no funeral guests. There’s a peculiar sort of haze over everything, lending a dream-like quality to his surroundings, like he’s stepped into a watercolour painting. The wind rustles through the tree leaves overhead, soft and melodic among the occasional sounds of birds chirping in the distance. It’s quiet and serene.</p><p>Tony wanders the property, taking in the lived-in signs of the land. There’s a neat little vegetable garden growing what look like tomatoes and cabbages among other things. A picnic table stands nearby with some hedge shears and earth-stained gardening gloves on it. Tony wonders where everyone is. Maybe they’re all back at the house.</p><p>As he walks up the porch steps, about to open the door, he hears a faint sound of laughter from somewhere in the woods behind him. He freezes, straining his ears. Looking around, he doesn’t see anything or anyone.</p><p>But there it is again, a soft laughing voice, dulcet and innocent like that of a small child’s.</p><p>Tony follows it, down the porch steps, past the vegetable garden, through the trees, heading towards the lake, until he comes across a little blue tent, tucked in a clearing. The voice seems to be coming from inside.</p><p>The tent flap rustles and a child steps out, wearing a pink sweater with white swans printed on it, a red glove with a glowing battery lamp on the palm, and what looks like an Iron Man helmet, golden face plate and all with the lit up eye slits, except where Tony’s suit is red, this helmet is blue.</p><p>“Halt, stranger, or be disintegrated.” The child’s lisping voice is small and distorted through the mask, the gloved hand pointed up at Tony like aiming a repulsor.</p><p>Tony stops in his tracks.</p><p>The child’s head tilts, regarding Tony curiously.</p><p>“Who are you?” Tony asks.</p><p>The child lifts up the helmet revealing big, brown, intelligent eyes that look up at him with frightening familiarity. It’s a little girl, no older than five-years old, with dark brown hair that falls in her face, and a mischievous smile that shapes a charming set of dimples.</p><p>“You don’t recognize me?” the girl asks, swaying on the spot, endearing and child-like.</p><p>Tony has seen her in his dreams. He knows who she is. But he shouldn’t. This girl … she isn’t his. She belongs to the other Tony Stark.</p><p>Tony looks around at the idyllic rural setting. This isn’t his life. But then again, he gave up his life, didn’t he? When he snapped his fingers using the gauntlet…</p><p>“So. This is death,” Tony assumes. “And this is like, what? Heaven? Do I even qualify for that?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t really decide that stuff,” the child replies, playing with her Iron Man helmet. She goes to sit down on a little wooden chair with flowers painted messily on it. It’s just the right size for her. “And this isn’t death,” she says, looking up at Tony. Her gaze is decidedly <em>not </em>child-like anymore. “I am.”</p><p>Tony is stunned into silence for a good five seconds. “You’re… you mean, you… <em>are</em> death?”</p><p>“With a capital D, don’t forget that.” The girl smiles. “But don’t make it inappropriate. There’s a kid here,” she says with a wink, gesturing at herself. “I did say I will come for you.”</p><p><em>Death will come for you</em>.</p><p>Tony lets out an incredulous exhale. “Gotta say. Even if you <em>are</em> real and this isn’t just some errant electrical sparks jumping around my dying, hypoxic neurons, that’s not exactly what I imagined you’d look like.”</p><p>The girl fixes her sharp eyes on him and her smile turns eerie. Something passes over her, like a shadow from a cloud floating overhead, and it’s like Tony gets an accidental peek of what’s behind the curtains at a stage show. Something he’s not supposed to see, something dark and terrible and unfathomable, a presence that can only be felt and not perceived in any other way.</p><p>But then Tony blinks and it’s a bright, sunny day once more and the little girl looks just like an ordinary little girl again.</p><p>“You were the Merchant of Death. Don’t tell me you don’t believe in me?” the girl teases.</p><p>“Sure. As a concept. But not … manifested. And certainly not with a consciousness.”</p><p>The girl giggles. “I don’t have a consciousness.”</p><p>“You’re speaking to me.”</p><p>“Am I, though?” The girl raises an eyebrow at him. She leans forward. “Look, we can argue the existential conundrums of philosophical concepts for all of eternity – I got a feeling you’d be a fun sparring partner, engineers always are – but I just thought I’d pull you aside for a bit, before you move on to … wherever it is you people go when you’re done with everything.”</p><p>Tony snorts. “You mean when we <em>die</em>?”</p><p>The girl nods dismissively. “Yeah, that. Anyway.” She smiles at him beatifically. “I just wanted to thank you.”</p><p>“For what?” Tony asks warily.</p><p>“You know how guys sometimes get weirdly obsessive when they find out a girl’s not interested in them and it becomes like, a personal mission for them to woo the girl?” - The girl seems to age as she speaks, the baby fat in her features streamlining, legs growing longer where it’s stretched out in front of her - “And then come the big gestures and the gifts in the mail and you end up looking at all of it going, ‘What is this? I don’t want this’ but the guy just <em>cannot </em>take a hint?” She stands up from the little chair when she grows too big for it, walking over to the picnic table where she sets down the Iron Man helmet, patting the top of it fondly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” Tony says, baffled as to where this is going.</p><p>The girl scrunches her face. She looks like a teenager now, probably around 15 or 16. “Yeah, that’s Thanos.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>The girl sighs, exasperated and almost embarrassed. “He has this misguided notion that all the lives he’s plucked and sent over my way will somehow endear him to me.”</p><p>“You mean all the people he’s <em>killed</em>? He’s doing all that for <em>you</em>? Then what’s with the whole spiel about ‘returning balance’ and ‘finite resources’ and planetary destruction?”</p><p>“Is that what he told you?” The girl makes a sour face. “Maybe that’s what he keeps telling himself too. But come on. How are you supposed to save on resources when you’re <em>destroying</em> half of said resources? It makes no sense. And then he goes and <em>destroys</em> the Infinity Stones? He knew there would be consequences for that. Guess they don’t call him the Mad Titan for nothing.” She sighs again. “Maybe I should apologize before I thank you. I’m the one who gave Thanos another chance. I promised him that at the event of his death, I will help his children get him back. But only one chance.”</p><p>“You’re the one who gave Nebula and Glaive those visions,” Tony realizes. “You instructed them to-”</p><p>“Acquire the Pym particles and force you to create a quantum tunnel. Return to the time before Thanos’s death and allow him to enact his will,” the girl finishes for him. “That’s why Glaive went after you. And I’m sorry for that. But I would like to <em>thank</em> you for successfully thwarting his plans and earning such deep loyalty from Nebula. She is the only living child of Thanos left and she would never raise a hand against you so Thanos is as good as failed.” She smiles again, cheerful and bright like they’re just discussing something frivolous like her favourite ice-cream flavour.</p><p>That’s how it is for these omnipotent higher-power types, Tony supposes. It’s all just some big game. Well, he’s done and played his part now. “So it’s over, then. I did it? The world is safe. Peter, he’s safe?”</p><p>The girl nods. “For now, at least.”</p><p>“Well, that’s nice. It’s all good and well until the next nutjob comes along with delusions of grandeur and love over some manic pixie cosmic entity.”</p><p>“Love?” the girl scoffs, picking up a potted plant from a wheelbarrow near the Starks’ vegetable garden. “Beings like Thanos wouldn’t know love if it took corporeal form and stabbed them in the face. It was ego, not love that drove him to commit all those atrocities. Love doesn’t take, all selfish and wilful. Love protects, and nurtures. It allows for growth, for life.” She waves a hand over the little plant in the pot she’s holding, watching it grow in fast forward, sprouting young, green leaves until a flower buds and blooms open, revealing soft pink petals.</p><p>When she looks back up at Tony, she seems to have aged further too. Her hair has grown darker, her eyes have faint lines in the corners, and fully adult now, she’s almost at Tony’s height. “Love was when your other self snapped his fingers and brought their world back, brought Peter back. Love was when <em>you</em> snapped your fingers and protected both your worlds and those adjacent to them. Love is the way you and Peter are with each other.”</p><p>“And you’re just like everyone else, huh,” Tony says derisively. “Love is all grand and beautiful and poetic when it’s all about sacrifice. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since you’re <em>Death</em> and all. You talk of love being all about giving <em>life</em>, but being who you are, you must have the mother of all tragedy boners. This is exactly how you wanted it to go.”</p><p>Death laughs. “Please. Your story is just one droplet in the vast ocean of the multiverse. Believe it or not, there are an infinite number of Tonys and Peters out there, living in an infinite number of ways. Some where you’re together, others where you’re not. Sometimes you’re superheroes, other times you’re ordinary people owning flower shops or something. Thanos doesn’t even exist in a lot of them.”</p><p>“And they all get to live happily ever after? That’s nice for them. So me and him – me and the other Tony – we drew the short straw of getting stuck in the middle of your and Thanos’s juvenile drama?”</p><p>Death advances on Tony, narrowing her eyes at him. The shadow falls back over her, giving her an air of coldness and austerity that is more befitting of an omniscient cosmic entity. Tony stands his ground though, glaring back defiantly. What is she gonna do, kill him? He’s already dead.</p><p>She looks him up and down, sizing him up, then smirks. “You know what, I’m going to do it,” she decides.</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“What was it that your beloved Peter said? About how ‘we write our own stories’? If I have to be honest with you, I never really liked the one where you sacrifice yourself to save the world. Seems … trite. Strange did tell you there’s one outcome where you make it, didn’t he? That sneaky little bugger,” she scowls. She hands the potted plant over to Tony, tracing a finger down one of the leaves before plucking it off the stem. “Fine. I’m convinced more than ever now. Back you go.” She flicks the leaf off her finger and lets it flutter to the ground.</p><p>Tony blinks. “I- what?”</p><p>She gives him a wry smile then shrugs.</p><p>The world around them fades.</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p>The portal passes through them and Peter is left all alone in the hallway, quiet now with nothing but the sound of rain falling harder than ever outside. There’s nothing but empty air in his arms, trembling hands holding onto nothing.</p><p>Peter stifles a sob, hand over his mouth.</p><p>Tony’s gone.</p><p>“Peter?”</p><p>He whips around at the sound. It really is him. Tony, standing there in the hallway, looking just as astonished as Peter feels.</p><p>Peter hears Tony let out a choked sob and he rushes forward, closing the distance between them, bodies crashing together in their haste. It’s really Tony, solid and real in his arms, holding him just as tight, just as desperately.</p><p>“You’re here,” Peter breathes. He quickly looks around. There’s no one but the two of them in their home. “Strange. He didn’t take you-”</p><p>Tony shakes his head. “No, he did. I was there, in the other universe. I … I did the snap. I did everything he asked me to and I think… I think I <em>died</em>. Or at least… I was supposed to? I don’t-”</p><p>Peter cups Tony’s face, soothing him, grounding him with his touch. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re here now.”</p><p>Tony rests his forehead against Peter, closes his eyes, and just breathes him in. “I thought I’d never see you again, Pete. I thought I was done for.”</p><p>Sling be damned, Peter gathers the older man in his arms, taking in his weight, murmuring quiet reassuring words. He can feel more than hear Tony’s ragged breaths muffled against his shoulder. “It’s alright, Tony. You’re okay. We’ll be okay,” he whispers over and over.</p><p>When Tony’s ready, they’ll talk about what happened. They’ll figure things out because that’s what they do. One thing for sure, whatever it is, they’ll do it together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That wasn’t so bad, right? </p><p>I hope you guys like the ending and that the wait was worth it. There’s an epilogue chapter right after this that I hope will tie up some loose ends and leave things in a more hopeful note. Enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Six months after the incident with Stephen Strange, Tony and Peter’s relationship is stronger than ever.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here’s your aftercare after those intense scenes. </p><p>*dom voice* You’ve all been so good for me</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Barely a minute has passed since Tony knocked on the door to the Parkers’ apartment when May, looking slightly harried, swings it open with a bit more force than was probably necessary.</p><p>“Oh good, you’re here,” she says without preamble. “Maybe you can talk some <em>sense </em>into him.” She says it more towards the room at large than to Tony and he guesses that he’s walked into the middle of an ongoing argument between aunt and nephew.</p><p>Peter’s voice can be heard from somewhere in the apartment. “May, if you think there’s anything Tony can say that could possibly- hey, Tony, I’ll be ready in a sec.” The young man himself appears from the hallway to his room and walks over to Tony, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “-make me do anything then you don’t know me half as well as you think you do.” Peter heads over to the bathroom and closes the door behind him.</p><p>“Is this about the post-grad thing?” Tony asks May. He offers her the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. “These are for you, by the way.”</p><p>“Aw, I love lilies, thank you,” she says, accepting them with a smile.</p><p>“Thank Happy. They’re from him. He says he’ll come over right after he drops Pepper off at the event. Might be a bit late depending on how annoying he’s going to be about the security sweep.”</p><p>May chuckles, going to the dining table to place them in a vase. “He’s a stickler for detail, that one.”</p><p>“You know how he is,” Tony says.</p><p>“Yep,” May agrees. When she sees Peter walk out of the bathroom to put his shoes on, she turns back to Tony, eyes sharp again. “You have a masters degree, right?” she asks him.</p><p>“Several, actually.”</p><p>May spreads her arms towards Tony in a <em>see?</em> gesture while glaring at her nephew, who just rolls his eyes.</p><p>While the news of Peter’s relationship with Tony became the hottest topic for entertainment gossip channels for 0.2 seconds before a hotter celebrity scandal came along and whisked away the public’s microscopic attention span, it sparked a bizarre interest from universities all over the country. It seemed that the attempts at digging up dirt on Peter Parker only revealed him to be an exemplary student at both Midtown Tech and NYU. Also, both institutions apparently received sizable donations from the Stark Group’s September Foundation during Peter’s time there and there was no doubt in any university president’s mind that the financial aid would also extend to whichever institution Peter chooses to continue his education.</p><p>And so the emails came pouring in, much to Peter’s bemusement, from all sorts of places offering him positions in all sorts of post-graduate programs, even in fields completely unrelated to his major.</p><p>Having pulled on his shoes - new, dark brown, leather brogues that Tony had picked out for him just a few days ago - Peter heads over to the mirror above the mantle and starts running his fingers through his hair, trying to tame the unruly brown curls. “May, I’m barely out of freshman year. I still got like three years of undergrad to go. I think it’s a little premature to be thinking about getting a masters degree.”</p><p>“It’s never too early for that,” May insists. “And with how well you’re doing, you could always fast track it. Right, Tony? Didn’t you graduate college at eighteen or something?”</p><p>“Seventeen,” Tony corrects. Peter glares at him. Tony clears his throat and smiles sheepishly. “You look amazing, sweetheart. Ready to go?”</p><p>Peter rolls his eyes again but there’s a faint pink tinge on his cheeks that betray him. Tony wasn’t lying. Peter does look amazing. Breath-taking, even. He’s finally allowed Tony to introduce him to the wonderful world of bespoke tailoring, having been invited to the New York City Memorial Day Gala, a formal, black-tie event being held at the Plaza Hotel.</p><p>It’s become one of Tony’s favourite pastimes, dressing up his incredibly attractive boyfriend, picking out the best styles and fabrics that would accentuate his lithe, athletic figure. A body like Peter’s is made for expensive suits in form-flattering European cuts and it makes Tony’s mouth water just looking at him. As much fun as Tony had dressing him up, he’s going to have a lot more fun peeling it off later tonight.</p><p>“Well, I’m off. Don’t go applying to universities on my behalf while I’m gone,” Peter says, giving May a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You have a very <em>Happy </em>evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Not if I see you on TMZ first,” May quips with a smirk, poking her nephew on the shoulder. Peter makes a face at that.</p><p>Tony is pleasantly surprised and eternally grateful at how welcoming May Parker is about their whole relationship, though it’s way more likely to be due to how much she trusts in Peter and not so much in Tony, himself. He has no doubt that the moment Peter loses even an iota of affection towards Tony, she’ll be the first person to mount an attack against him, and Happy will readily help her do it. But for now, she’s content with teasing both him and her nephew on the many ways their relationship is not what anyone would call conventional, even when Peter gives it back to her just as good about her new relationship with Happy.</p><p>“There won’t be paparazzi in the venue itself, don’t worry. And none of the official press would release photos of your nephew trying to sneak drinks from the bar,” Tony tells May with a wink. “At least not without my say anyway.”</p><p>“Alright, can we go now?” Peter says, marching huffily out the door. “I thought you said we were late.”</p><p>The elevator is slow and clunky as it takes them down from the seventh to the ground floor. Tony makes a mental note to follow up on the reparations and maintenance he scheduled with the landlord. It would probably be easier to just buy the building and Tony wonders if Peter would be open to the idea. He has other plans for Peter’s living arrangements after all.</p><p>But for the moment, the elevator’s sluggishness gives Tony an opportunity to push Peter up against the walls and kiss him hard the way he’s been wanting to ever since Peter stepped out of his room wearing that suit.</p><p>Peter makes a soft, surprised sound against Tony’s lips, gripping at his shoulders as he kisses the older man back.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been six months since Death brought Tony back from whatever dimensional limbo they met in, six months since he thought he would die and never see Peter again. He knew what the existence of a multiverse would imply, that there would be an infinite number of Tonys and Peters out there who are together or not together in a multitude of infinite ways. The knowledge is probably enough to make anyone go crazy, even a mind like Tony’s.</p><p>“Huh,” Wong had said thoughtfully when Tony paid him another visit at the Sanctum, a few days after his return from the alternate universe. “I guess that’s why Stephen didn’t portal you back to Earth from Titan. I always wondered why he just left you there,” he mused after Tony told him everything about his encounter with Death.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He needed to speed up the process. This thing between you and Peter. Stephen knew that it would give you the best fighting chance with her. If you hadn’t spent two weeks cooped up in a tiny spaceship you’d probably still be dancing around each other all the way ‘til the end. It’s pretty tiresome, you know. It wouldn’t interest her.”</p><p>It should have infuriated Tony, being manipulated like that. And it did for a few hours. Then he came home to Peter – <em>his</em> Peter – and all he felt was gratitude that he was granted this gift of time with him, to love Peter and be loved by him.</p><p>They could have ended up like the countless Peters and Tonys in those other universes who aren’t together. But here, right now, all that matters is the Tony and Peter of <em>this</em> universe. The Tony that’s got Peter pinned against the peeling walls of an old elevator in an apartment in Queens, the Peter that’s melting in his arms under his loving, fervent kisses. The Tony and Peter who fuck hard and loud and animalistic as readily and frequently as they make sweet, tender, desperate love. The Tony and Peter who are alive, together, and happy.</p><p> </p><p>The drive to Manhattan is quick and uneventful. Tony had all his cars’ safety protocols upgraded, including the silver Bentley Continental they’re currently in.</p><p>Camera flashes greet them at the Plaza Hotel entrance as Tony rushes out of the car, buttoning his suit jacket as he walks hastily around the vehicle to open the passenger door for Peter.</p><p>Smiling exasperatedly and blushing only slightly, Peter takes his hand and allows the older man to guide him out of the car and up the steps through the obtrusive row of telephoto lenses and flashing lights. Peter has gotten a lot more relaxed under all the attention, his gait is easy and casual as they walk together towards the hotel entrance, his smile polite and demure at the photographers screaming their names. The only thing that gives away his slight nervousness is the tight grip he has on Tony’s hand.</p><p>Peter has become well acquainted with the rest of the Avengers too, greeting them warmly once they enter the venue. Natasha has become especially fond of her little spider, always trying to whisk him away from Tony for secret conversations whenever they meet. Bruce, upon his return to New York, was bemused to find himself a scientific admirer in Peter, whose wide-eyed enthusiasm in the physicist’s work is hitting a level of hero-worship that’s close to making Tony jealous. Even Rhodey’s annoying protectiveness of Tony has been quickly thawed by Peter’s natural charm. Tony knows all too well how easy it is to fall in love with Peter.</p><p>Other than Rhodey, Sam is the only other military-serving member of the Avengers present at the event. Steve and Bucky decided not to attend, wanting to commemorate Memorial Day in their own way. It’s probably for the best. Former Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross is in attendance and he keeps throwing the Avengers dark, spiteful looks that Steve probably wouldn’t be capable of taking lying down. A lot of those looks are directed at Wanda and Vision instead but the two of them can’t seem to care less, laughing and conversing with the others just like your normal everyday couple.</p><p>Vision’s powers are now a fraction of what it used to be when he had the Mind Stone focusing them. Now more often than not, he’s in his fully human form, looking to all the world just like an unassuming English professor with his penchant for tweed jackets. Whatever residual energy from the Mind Stone remains within him the same way that Wanda’s powers reside within her.</p><p>Wanda isn’t particularly troubled when she was told that she had not managed to destroy the Mind Stone after all. Tony thinks that she’s just relieved that such a condensed mass of power isn’t painting such a large target on her and Vision’s back anymore. Tony’s glad for the happiness she’s found. She’s been through so much already in her young life.</p><p> </p><p>A speech is required of Tony to open the event, something about honouring the great heroes of this great nation on this Memorial Day and all that, all to make the audience of the country’s elite feel good about themselves as they sip expensive champagne and nibble on caviar. Tony’s way too used to giving speeches for it to take up much of his concentration. He stands at the podium, throwing out words as pretty and empty as his smiles, but his attention is on Peter, smiling and laughing at the back corner of the venue with the rest of the Avengers who are now as much his friends as they are Tony’s. The smile Tony wears grows a lot more genuine at the thought.</p><p>Peter’s eyes light up when he spots Tony walking towards him after his speech. Tony wonders if his heart will ever stop skipping a beat at the sight, at the warmth in Peter’s eyes, the smile that graces his beautiful face just for Tony. The older man swoops him up for a kiss, right there in front of everyone, just because he wants to, just because he can.</p><p>--</p><p>“Well, that’s not fair. I’m only three weeks away from turning 21. And besides, I’m Sokovian. The drinking age there is eighteen.”</p><p>Vision frowns. “I don’t think that’s how it works-”</p><p>“Okay, aren’t you literally four-years-old?” Peter interrupts. “At least <em>we’re</em> legally allowed to drink <em>somewhere</em> in the world.”</p><p>“Oh shoot, quick, Sam’s coming over,” Wanda says, and with flick of her slender fingers, three filled shot glasses make their way to each of their hands by the pull of red energy sparks. Peter and Wanda quickly down them in one coordinated movement.</p><p>Sam gives all three of them – including Vision whose glass is still full – withering looks. “What am I, your dad or something? You guys suck at this whole sneaking around thing.” He takes the untouched shot from Vision and gulps it down, grimacing as he does so. “Tequila? Didn’t know they’d even have these here. Real classy. Your billionaire boyfriend’s sponsoring this shindig and you drink <em>this stuff</em>?</p><p>“Yeah? And what would you recommend then, Mr. Wilson?” Peter says with a challenging grin.</p><p>Sam orders them a few rounds of Grey Goose.</p><p>After a while, Wanda frowns. “I know I’ve only had like, three, but aren’t I supposed to feel at least something at this point?”</p><p>Peter shrugs. “I don’t. Spidey thing.”</p><p>Vision says to Wanda, “And you have that witchy thing, I imagine.”</p><p>“Well that’s just a waste of good vodka,” Sam grumbles.</p><p>“Geez, Pete, I leave you for two seconds,” Tony says, materializing at Peter’s side. He grabs and knocks back the next shot before Peter can take it. “Hey Samuel, you might wanna quit while you’re ahead. You don’t wanna get into a drinking contest with a couple of enhanceds.”</p><p>“You were gone and I was bored,” Peter complains, pouting. “You know we never did get to do that whole ‘how much alcohol does Peter need to get drunk’ experiment.”</p><p>“Hmm, let’s save that for a time when we’re not in front of high-ranking government officials, eh?” Tony slides a hand around Peter’s waist and kisses his temple. “And I’m sorry, baby, I had to make the chit-chatty rounds. You know how it is. But I’m all yours now.”</p><p>Sam glances at Peter and Tony then at Wanda and Vision then back at them again. “Well, I know a fifth wheel when I see one. I’m gonna go ask Nat if she wants to dance or something.”</p><p>Peter looks up at Tony. “Do you want to?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Dance,” Peter says, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. He’s never really danced before, especially in front of people. But it seems like something Tony would know how to do and he trusts Tony to guide him and Peter just really, really wants to dance with him.</p><p>Tony smiles at him, that soft just-for-Peter smile that shines through his eyes more than anything, a gentle, soul-aching thing that grips Peter’s heart and lets him know that it belongs to him. Peter’s heart belongs to Tony, forever and always.</p><p>Tony takes Peter’s hand and leads him to where a lot of the couples are swaying on the spot, slow-dancing to the soothing live music. Tony’s other hand rests low on Peter’s back, holding them close. The song that’s playing has a pleasant and serene melody, a smooth rhythm that guides the easy movements of their bodies. The lights twinkle above them, Tony is warm and solid beneath Peter’s hands, and they dance.</p><p>Times like these, Peter feels like his chest could burst open with how happy he is. He’s in one of the most beautiful hotels in New York City, dancing with the most beautiful man in the room. Tony always looks so handsome in his rich, tailored suit, cut to fit his toned body perfectly, the very image of power and refinement. All eyes are drawn to him wherever he goes, and – simply by association and proximity – to Peter too.</p><p>Peter knows what all these people think, watching them like this. He doesn’t need his enhanced hearing to know what they’re all saying. But he doesn’t care. It’s impossible to care when he’s in Tony’s arms like this, when the older man is gazing at him with those open, soulful eyes radiating nothing but love and adoration, looking at him like he’s the only one in the room. Tony’s it for him. Peter knows it more than he knows the fundamental laws of physics.</p><p>Peter ducks his head, face feeling warm. “Stop looking at me like that.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like I got a booger hanging out my nose.”</p><p>Tony chuckles softly. “I’m just admiring how beautiful you are. Even with boogers hanging out your nose.”</p><p>Peter grins, leaning in and pretending to wipe his nose on Tony’s shoulder, making the older man throw his head back and laugh.</p><p>Tony tugs him closer, pressing affectionate kisses into his hair. “God, you’re so cute,” Tony says, and Peter can hear the smile in those words. “I love you so much.”</p><p>It takes Peter’s breath away every single time he hears those words, even when it’s become a casual thing now, dropped lightly whenever Peter offers Tony the last piece of bacon over breakfast or after Tony kisses him goodbye when he drops him off at uni. It feels just as profound as when it’s whispered quiet and breathless after a particularly vigorous round of love-making, or when Tony wakes up from a nightmare – his usual ones now, less frequent, less intense – and Peter’s there to soothe him. Tony says it often, sometimes at the most random of times, and Peter knows that he means it every time.</p><p>The cameras catch them again as they leave the hotel and into the car that’s waiting for them by the valet. It overwhelmed his senses at first, but after a while, Peter has learned to tune out all the screaming and blinding flashes of light. Tony’s grip on his hand keeps him centred, gives him strength.</p><p>Despite Peter’s newfound fame, no one knows about his alter ego as Spider-man, and he wants to keep it that way for as long as he can. In a weird sort of way, it’s somewhat liberating to be known to the public primarily as Tony Stark’s boy toy. He feels like his secret identity is safer that way. The more gossip rags tend to paint him in the image of some high-maintenance pampered prince, the less people will associate him with the masked vigilante taking down thugs in downtown Queens. Who would ever think that <em>Spider-man</em>, hero of the little people, would be lounging on the leather seats of a two-hundred-thousand dollar car with Tony Stark’s hand inching up his inner thighs?</p><p> </p><p>Peter’s got his own toothbrush in Tony’s bathroom already, and Tony always has a carton of that particular brand of orange juice that Peter likes in his fridge, the one with the pulp. Peter tends to spend the night at Tony’s penthouse after their dates. It’s just more convenient that way.</p><p>Ever since the incident with Stephen Strange, Tony’s stint across dimensions, and subsequent encounter with Death herself, Peter is loath to be away from Tony for too long. The older man still has the Avengers and Stark Industries responsibilities taking his time while Peter’s schoolwork is getting busier, but they always find time for each other, usually at night when the day is over, and tangled together in bed more often than not.</p><p>Tony is as patient and generous a lover as he is powerful and unforgiving. Sex with him isn’t just a means to get off and blow some steam – though sometimes when they haven’t seen each other for a few days, they do tend to get hasty and rough and desperate. Peter’s never been with anyone else – and nor does he ever want to now – so it’s not like he has any basis for comparison, but he’s always imagined sex to be something so profoundly intimate every time. And it is. But he didn’t expect just how much fun it is. That he would find someone he would be so comfortable with that he could laugh and joke around with even when they’re rolling around naked in bed.</p><p>Tonight is one of those nights. The lust is there, but not as an all-consuming hunger that devours every cell of their bodies, starving for touch, racing towards completion. The love is there, always, but it’s the warm thermals that buoy them to float above the clouds, blissful and light. Nights like these, the sex is easy, comfortable, familiar. They know each other’s bodies so well now, know exactly how to pull pleasure from each other, like the fine-tuned instruments they work with in Tony’s lab.</p><p>Tony’s mouth on Peter’s skin feels like the warm kisses of the sun on a cold winter morning, his touches like a balm that soothes his sore muscles after a hard, strenuous fight. Peter drinks in the sweet stream of beautiful praises that Tony murmurs in his ear and answers in kind mixed in with his own pleasured moans. Peter’s never felt so pure and powerful as when he’s taking Tony inside him, moulding himself to the unrelenting push of the older man’s body until they’re one, the two stars in a binary system meeting in a supernova. They make perfect moments like this every time, night after night.</p><p>They’re breathing hard, a little sweaty with their bare legs tangled together under the sheets, sated and blissed out, but they’re not tired. Tony’s sitting up in bed against pillows propped up against the headboard, one arm curled around Peter as the younger man lies against his shoulder and uses the TV remote to find something to watch on the bedroom’s flat screen TV.</p><p>“No, come on,” Tony complains when Peter finally decides on a movie.</p><p>“It’s the first movie we ever watched together,” Peter insists. “And besides, Back to the Future is a classic!”</p><p>“You’ve watched this like a million times. What do you have against watching things you’ve never seen before?”</p><p>“I have to be in the right mood for it. A lot of times I just want to relax in a familiar, comforting story.” Peter continues scrolling. “Ooh, can we finally watch Sense8 now? I can’t believe you haven’t seen this. It’s so good.”</p><p>“Didn’t it get cancelled after barely two seasons?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter grumbles, pressing play and snuggling back against Tony’s chest. “Something about not being able to cover production costs. But the network barely did any marketing, what did they expect?”</p><p>Tony hums, fingers tracing light circles on Peter’s bare shoulder. “If I knew how much you liked it, I would’ve bought the rights.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“My old man used to have a production company of sorts back in the forties. Stark Pictures. It never really went anywhere. But there’s a lot of interesting things going on in film these days, tech-wise with special effects.” Tony shrugs, eyes fixated on the scene unfolding on the TV. “Just an idea.”</p><p>Peter wonders when it will stop taking him by surprise, the fact that he’s in bed with one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country, if not the world. That musings of buying production rights to a whole ass TV show or launching subsidiary companies have become idle pillow talk now in his life.</p><p>“This is pretty dark,” Tony comments halfway through the first episode. “Didn’t think you’d like these kinds of stories.”</p><p>Peter hums thoughtfully. “I like the kind of stories where happiness isn’t just a point in the end, like a happy ending. I like it when it’s weaved into every part of the story, when it can still be found even amidst the struggle, and so it goes into the future. A hopeful kind of story, you know?”</p><p>They make it two episodes before Peter yawns and Tony suggests they call it a night. Peter goes to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water, and when he returns to the bedroom, he finds Tony sitting up on the bed fiddling with a little box.</p><p>Peter’s heart skips a beat.</p><p>Tony looks up when he approaches. “Hey, Pete. I was just thinking.” He clears his throat, looking a little nervous. “You’d be starting sophomore year soon, and I know the workload is probably gonna get harder and everything. And I mean, you’ve been spending a lot of time here already, and this place is a lot closer to campus. And you know, you can think about it obviously, but-” Tony opens the box to reveal a small, silver key nestled inside. “Do you maybe want to move in here? With me?”</p><p>Peter lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh my god, yes, of course!”</p><p>“Really?” Tony’s eyes light up hopefully. “I know it’s a big step, and I know you’ve never-”</p><p>“Are you kidding?” Peter exclaims, pouncing on him. “Sleeping with you every night, waking up to you every morning, it’s everything I ever wanted.”</p><p>Tony kisses him and hands him the box. “I mean there’s no key, obviously. I don’t use a key. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will let you in any time. It’s just symbolic. But I mean, it could be a key to your own cabinet or something if you want. Or we could-”</p><p>Peter cuts him off with another kiss. Tony’s beaming and rambling and he’s just about the cutest thing Peter has ever seen, and they’re going to be living together.</p><p>They kiss until they fall asleep, tired but happy. Peter’s last thought before he drifts off is how he fully thought Tony was about to pop a completely different question, and how he was fully prepared to say yes if that was the question Tony was going to ask. It’s probably way too early to be thinking about that stuff. But the heart of the matter is, Tony’s it for him. Peter knows that there isn’t and never will be anyone else.</p><p>So if or when that day comes, Peter knows exactly what he will answer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that’s that on that! </p><p>Soooo what do you think?</p><p>Thank you for accompanying me on this crazy ride and indulging what is essentially a mishmash of my starker headcanons. God I can’t believe it’s finally completed! Five months of writing culminated in the longest fic I’ve ever written so far. I still can’t believe how much wonderfully positive feedback I’ve gotten and it means so much more than I can say. Like, seriously, I would not have the strength and motivation to achieve all this without your amazing support. I appreciate every single comment and kudos everyone has left. They are a bright, warm light in my life. </p><p>I’m so excited to continue writing starker and post more stuff and it’s all because of your enthusiasm too. I can’t wait to share more stories with you. I got a big ol' WIP pile and I'm looking forward to working on something that's not this fic lol.</p>
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